#CERTAINLY NOT YOU YA CRAZY FUCK OF A HUMAN BEING

[cringefuckass]

draft of chapter two for the fic! working title right now is “Hell and Other Things That Don’t Suit Us”. once again this chapter will probably be edited before i’m able to post it to ao3. for now i want to post to tumblr bc i need the motivation of knowing people are aware i’m doing something lol

Angel walked alone down the road, hands in his pockets, only looking around occasionally to see if anyone was nearby. It was late, somehow later than he was use to being kept at work. Valentino kept him back for more of the usual and Angel was tired, exhausted even. He wanted to just get back to the hotel and crash into his bed. Tomorrow he had nothing going on and so he was already formulating his plan for the day in his head. He had to admit to himself, it was exciting. Redemption was possible and that crazy princess proved it. He had a shot, small as it may be, to get away from it all. From Val. To Molly. It was possible. It felt new to him to have a sense of direction in his afterlife and it felt incredible, though if anyone asked him he’d certainly downplay it. Val had jabbed at him over it despite Angel not saying anything out loud. Called him and every other sinner who dared to hope a chump. Perhaps it could be more motivation that Val had zero interest in redemption, he’d never see Heaven and that meant Angel would never see him again if he succeeded. Tired as he was he still had a slight pep in his step as he made his way to the hotel through the dark city streets.

As he turned a corner he saw two other Hell residents making their way through the darkened streets, dimly lit enough that he make out only their shapes. A tall figure was being followed by a shorter one, the taller one having horns that added considerable height. Did Imps grow that big? With a shake of his head he decided he didn’t actually care. They were walking in his direction, though considerably slower than him, as if they weren’t sure of each step they took. As he was gradually approaching them, ready to cross paths and probably never think of them again, he caught parts of their conversation. Or, the taller figures conversation with the air maybe.

“But you know what I mean Lute, this place is a dump,” Angel listened as the tall one, a man by the sound of his voice, rambled on, “a real shitshow. What the fuck are we gonna do?” Oh? Wayward souls perhaps?

“Well, sir, I imagine it’s a free for all down here. We may have to figure it out as we go along.” The shorter of the two, a woman he now knew was named Lute, replied. The man either didn’t listen or didn’t care for her suggestion as he just continued on a new tangent as Angel passed them finally. Not much to go off of, but the two were definitely lost at least. Angel slowed his pace as his thoughts sped up. Helping people is a pretty redeeming quality… and all he’d have to do to get some good boy points is explain what the hotel was and offer to walk them to them there, then it was off his hands and into Charlie’s. He would be helpful while barely having to do anything! Score!

Angel turned on his heels and jogged back up to them, “Uh, hey you two,” He caught their attention. “I couldn’t help overhearing that you two are in some kind of situation.” He gave a winning smile to them, looking back and forth, before realising they were each giving him an unsettled look. Not one he’d have expected from two people who got pulled out of their conversation by a stranger but the kind from people who were downright shocked. The woman in particular looked like she could glare daggers right into him if he said the wrong thing. “Uh. I-I just, heard you talking as I was walkin’ past ya both, it sounded like you were maybe lost?” He was loosing steam. She was unnerving and it didn’t help that the man was ridiculously tall, taller than he had expected up close. It was odd to see someone so close to human but just adjacent enough that she left him unsettled. The only other people he’d met down here who came this close to human had been Charlie and Vaggie so far, and Charlie growing horns occasionally kind of took away from that perception. At least the man, large as he was, had the familiarity of a more inhuman face. “I might just keep walking, I’m sorry to bother ya both!”

“Wait.” Lute spoke finally breaking her stony gaze with a blink. “What help could you possibly offer?” It seemed less like an acceptance and more like a challenge.

“Yeah spindle-slut, what’s your game here?” The man joined, hands on his hips. Angel was beginning to wonder if this was actually going to be worth the effort. They didn’t truly know just yet what redeemed a sinner, he was taking a shot in the dark here because he had been under the assumption this would be easy, a quick invitation and then he was done. It seemed these two were more down for a challenge than anything.

“Okay big boy, keep the names to a minimum when we’re not in the bedroom, capeesh?” Angel saw the woman’s eyes narrow at that. Human as she appeared she still resembled a bird of prey, yellow eyes and feathered neck. “What I was going to say is that if yous are lost I know somewhere that takes people in for free. All you gotta do is play along with with some goody two shoes bullshit and you get a hotel room with no other strings attached. There’s been comerciales for it, the Hazbin Hotel?”

The woman stepped closer to Angel in an aggressive manner, sidestepping the man who looked like he been slapped in the face.

“We have zero interest in some crackpipe dream from a hellspawn like that princess, do you hear me?” The energy radiating from her sucked out the last bit of motivation Angel had for attempting his good deed for the day.

“Okay.” Angel stepped back. “Whatever toots, see ya never.” Angel turned on his heels and strode away. What a waste of time, if he stuck around a second longer he was sure he’d have had to pull out his guns from their hiding place. That conversation was a waste of time and effort, and now he was even more ready to crash in bed the second he got back to the hotel. At least he could say he gave it a shot. Maybe the fact that he tried would count towards whatever toll he was trying to fill.

#hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #lute hazbin hotel #guitarspear #adam x lute #angel dust #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic

[resident-mercie]

Carlos Oliveira Fic - Halcyon Days (NSFW) Chapter 2.

notes: nsfw allusions, obsessive carlos allusions, canon violence, allusions to death, slow burn romance

➵ You may have made it to the sanctum of the subway, but your peace with Carlos is threatened by both apocalyptic and human forces beyond your control.

“Being eaten by a cutie would be a good way to go, I suppose.” Carlos grinned, arms outstretched, beckoning me towards the hug I so desperately craved. “Just get over here already, before you turn and bite my arm off, will ya?”

With a little hesitance, I shuffled over to Carlos’s seat, finding myself enveloped in his presence, his muscular arm pulling me closer towards his chest. His scent was comforting in a bizarre way, being a mixture of cheap cologne, sweat, and mortality. While reminiscing about it right now made my nose twitch, it was a mixture of smells that were, for the most part, refreshingly human. His chest rising and falling filled me with an unusual sense of relief - that I wasn’t the only human trapped in such a horrific situation. We had each other, and although we had only met around twenty minutes prior, every cell in me screamed that this wasn’t just any chance encounter.

I could feel myself melting into his touch, as I felt him rest his chin on my head, which was now buried into the nook of his collarbone, leading to his chest. In the sanctum of his arms, maybe there was no apocalypse - maybe this was all just a terrible nightmare that I’d wake up from, and then head into my monotonous office job, not giving it any more thought. Yet, a selfish nagging in me pleaded for this to be real, because if this was a nightmare, then the sanctuary of Carlos Oliveira wouldn’t exist beyond the figments of incoherent thoughts in my dreams.

“Is that any better?” Carlos smiled, tracing patterns against my back in a reassuring manner with his thumb, his breathing in tandem with my own.

“I don’t want to let go.”

The carriage door opened as I whispered those words into his chest, and immediately the intimacy developing in the atmosphere dissipated, replaced by an uneasy tension.

“Our first aid service isn’t a secret sex workshop, Oliveira.” A voice bellowed into the room, from a figure seemingly fired by bitter vehemence. This new arrival was just as tall as Carlos, but unlike Oliveira’s stature, there was something menacing in his appearance, threatening almost. His face was paralysed with animosity, glaring at Carlos and I in a way that was unnerving and hostile. “If you want to try and get yourself laid before we run out of supplies, then be my guest. But don’t come crying to me when you’re infected.”

With one last spiteful glare in my direction, the figure skulked away, yet his uneasy presence was still very much influential on the atmosphere.

“Who was that?”

“That’s fucking Nikolai. Guy thinks he’s the top dog now he’s got his greasy hands on an authority position in our platoon.”

“Call me crazy if you want, Carlos, but I don’t trust the guy.”

Carlos’s response wasn’t a verbal one, but the look he gave me was one of mutual agreement. We were on the same wavelength.

After a clear of his throat, the usual reassuring smile of Carlos had returned, as he rested a large calloused hand atop my shoulder.

“Now I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve gotta start clearing some debris off the tracks so we can get the hell out of here. I, uh, left you a fresh change of clothes over on that stool over there. Figured they might be more practical than pyjamas.” He blushed a little, and suddenly realisation dawned on me. I was stood in front of this guy in a vest and some shorts - yeah, not the most scandalous thing in the world, but certainly not my go-to outfit for the most part.

“Oh, shit! I didn’t realise, I’m sorry—“

Carlos held a finger to my lip, and I could immediately feel myself melting into his touch once more. The closeness was unbearable, every cell in me screaming just to kiss the damn man already.

“Shh, minha querida. It suits you very well, just not the most appropriate clothing for the apocalypse. I don’t want you getting bitten, because I can’t let that hug of ours be the last, eh?”

I could only watch in a mix of lust and admiration as he proceeded to leave the carriage, my heart in my chest, his words echoing over and over in my head, my cheeks flushing as fantasy after fantasy uncontrollably sprung into my mind.

“I’ll be on the tracks if you need me. Hopefully won’t be long till we can get out of this shitheap.”

I could only sit aboard one of the derelict subway carriages, watching Carlos clear the tracks through the misted window. I felt much more comfortable in my change of clothes, being cargo trousers and a turtleneck, as they helped to warm me against the cold September air. All I could do was sit and wait, minutes turning into hours, and the hours crawling by.

“I see you’ve taken a liking to Mr Oliveira, hm?” A joyful voice echoed throughout the carriage, grounding me in reality once more. “The name’s Mikhail, UCBS platoon leader. I’ll be accompanying you survivors to the safe zone. Maintenance is nearly done. Why don’t you go find Carlos, and tell him the good news?”

I nodded, smiling at Mikhail. He was older than the likes of Carlos and Nikolai, with both his experience and his exhaustion plainly evident on his face. I stepped out of the carriage, running down the platform, until I found Carlos, a slightly disappointed look dampening his usual reassuring smile.

“Carlos, hurry up!” I waved with a smile, so relieved we’d finally be getting out of here. “Maintenance is done, and you guys managed to clear the tracks! We can finally get out of here!”

“That’s great, but there’s a slight complication.” Carlos forced a weak smile, unable to properly meet my gaze. “I’m not gonna be on your train outta here. I’ve been saddled with more duties.”

Crestfallen, I asked whether this was the last train home.

“No, no, not at all. Once I’ve finished up here, the subway carts will come back for me and some more of the crew. We might not be making it out at the exact same time, but I promise we’ll both make it out together, one way or another.”

I nodded, trying not to let the tears that were forming in my eyes escape.

"It ain’t goodbye, it’s just see you later, minha querida. I have a parting gift for you though.”

Carlos hoisted himself up from the tracks, back up onto the platform, walking over to me, and enveloping me in another hug I so desperately craved. I was yearning for his scent, his presence, his touch, as one hand ran through my hair, while the other slipped something into the deep pocket of my cargo trousers.

“I don’t fucking trust Nikolai. He’ll be on your train home with Mikhail. If he does anything that makes you feel unsafe, promise me you’ll defend yourself. Maybe I do sound delusional right now, but I don’t care. All of his platoon mates who he’s taken along with him while trying to get the subway running haven’t returned. You know what that means, right?’ Carlos’s voice was a low, husky whisper, a voice so tantalising as he held me so close. “I’ve slipped you a handgun and some extra bullets. The safety is on. Promise we’ll be together on the other side, right? Don’t let anyone hurt you.”

Together. A simple word, yet one that made me shiver inexplicably. His unwavering loyalty, bordering on obsession, made me ever so more infatuated with him.

“I promise, Carlos. Promise me you’ll stay safe here, too.”

“Of course, minha querida. The first thing I want to do when I see you, is hug you again. You better get going. I won’t be far behind, I promise.”

I waved goodbye to Carlos, saddened by the fact we weren’t getting out of here, together, right now. While I was upset, I knew deep down that he could hold his own, and that it wouldn’t be long until we were together again. The carriage I was in, for the most part, was relatively silent - the only other occupants being Mikhail, and Nikolai. Oh, how I desperately wished Carlos was in Nikolai’s place instead. They were mumbling about a “Nathaniel Bard”, a name that was totally unfamiliar to me, even after all my years of living in Raccoon.

“Are you sure he’s not dead? I mea, the whole city is full of tho—“

Nikolai’s tirade was abruptly cut off, as the subway carriages tilted and screeched, immediate panic coursing through my veins. Even if a bit of debris had been missed on the tracks, the subway carriages shouldn’t have acted so abnormally.

“What the hell?”

I ran to look at the carriage tailing behind us, desperate to see if this was just some kind of bizarre accident. But, it wasn’t there. All that was left was a few seats, some bodies and—

“What the fuck is that thing?” I panicked, yet counting my blessings that Carlos had offered me the handgun moments before. Stood before me was this hunkering tower of flesh, staring me down with its clouded, soulless eyes.

“Go, get to the back carriage!” Mikhail ordered, still determined to risk his neck for the sake of one sole survivor. Nodding, I ran to the next carriage, yet the lock had just turned, and as I looked up, my stomach sank.

“Nikolai, what are you doing? Let me in!”

Nikolai’s sly smile crept up his face in an almost comically evil way, waving at me from beyond the glass.

“Now why should I do that? After all, he’s probably not after me.”

“Fuck you, you fucking shithead.” Words tumbled out of my mouth, unable to entirely comprehend that he’d throw a civilian and his boss out if it meant he was the one to get out alive.

Mikhail’s shots at the creature were futile, as it grabbed him by a tendril of bloodied muscle, like some kind of sadistic predator torturing its prey. Yet, as I watched the events unfold in front of me, it seemed that the shots were more of a diversion for my sake.

“Get off my train, shitbird.” Mikhail growled, and with a click of a detonator, my eyes were met with a blinding light. Whatever happened after that is impossible to describe, as while the train derailed, I was slammed into the side of the carriage.

As everything faded to black, I hoped and prayed with every cell in me that I could still fulfil my promise to Carlos. We will get out of here. Together.

#resident evil #fanfic #fanfiction #carlos oliveira #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fanfic #carlos oliveira x reader #resident evil 3 #raccoon city #resident evil 3 remake

[sluckythewizard]

EVERYONE GGET BAAACK IM ABT TO RAMBLE ABOUT FINN TIDESTRIDER. SPOILERS FOR EEVERYTHINGGGG ALL UP TO EP 113 YOU GOTTA RUN!! YOU GOTTA RUN AWAYYYY!!!!

ITS FASCINATING to speak to someone who has lived 80 years. almost every conversation involves me asking about a story of theirs, places theyve been, things theyve done. i feel like ive seen so much in only 20 something years of life, imagine that 4 times over?

all those stories, to have each and every one of them written down i feel like would be a beautiful thing. record keeping, storing that experience in an edible form, preserved for the future generations to study and cherish. imagine how many stories could be collected from not just 80 years of life, but 200? maybe more? imagine?

i LOVE characters that live to observe and document, keeping all their findings and knowledge and memories in tomes and records. i have several ocs that are functionally immortal, owning vast libraries holding all the knowledge of their lives. one of them is a man losing his memory, who has all his most vital memories tattooed onto his arms, so he will never forget what matters. FINN TIDESTRIDER. A MAGICIAN? WIZARD? SCIENTIST MAYBE. RESEARCHER ABSOLUTELY. CHRONICLER. LIBRARIAN. I HAD NO REAL STRUCTURE IN MIND FOR THIS POST. WHICH IS WHY ITLL SHOCK YA WHEN I BRING UP:

SEXUAL REPRESSION UNDER A CORRUPT RELIGIOUS ORGANIZATION. MORMONISM AND SOME OTHER JESUS CENTERED RELIGIONS WILL TELL YOU THAT YOUR BODY IS A SACRED THING. MASTURBATION IS EVIL, IT CORRUPTS YOUR BODY, WHICH SHOULD BE SAVED FOR MARRIAGE. CELIBACY PRESERVES YOUR BODY, FOR YOUR ONE AND ONLY LIFE PARTNER. SEX IS NOT AN ACTIVITY, IT IS SACRED, RESERVED ONLY FOR PROCREATION.

i dont know if the undersea is Perfectly comparable to religions like that, but it is certainly a culture that upholds a very 'the elders are always right and must be followed'. polygamy is punishable by death, releasing spawn is a natural step after marriage, etc etc, i wouldnt be surprised to find that the undersea has a crazy Purity Culture thing going on. to live your whole long life down there, where so much is forbidden, and finally breaking into the surface world to explore the unknown, who knew your own body would be part of that 'unknown'?

in that episode, in the uh. Book. he says 'his first man was a (shiphand)' or whatever idk i dont feel like relistening. but HIS FIRST MAN!! ur telling me Finn Sexguy Tidestrider wasnt banging dudes down in the undersea?? maybe hes just talkin about his first Human but whateeverrrr. is homophobia a thing in the undersea?? i guess itll be a while before we know.

EITHER WAY. to break free from an oppressive climate and finally having the chance to be sexually free. to finally be familiar with your own body and the bodies of others, to LEARN so much about what makes you and others tick, to experience a unique form of intimacy with another. while having sex is not a VITAL experience, to have the freedom and choice to explore that IS SO IMPORTANT...

sex isnt a disgusting thing, its not wrong and its not naughty its not sinful its not gross. but sex also is not sacred, its not a big important thing, its not vital. sex is JUST an activity. a fun thing to do with ur homies or someone youre close to. there are dangers of course, which is why KNOWLEDGE about it is such an important thing. ohhh my god i constantly have a huge ramble locked n loaded about sexual education but ill GET INTO THAT ANOTHER TIME.

TLDR i reaally like finn tidestrider because TO ME, he is not just a wacky funny old sex-having wizard. hes a man who lived a looong fuckin time under a religious climate that discouraged sexual exploration, and after he left, got to spend decades and decades of being FREE to explore. in MY heart.

i get like, haha funny old man yaoi, the shock of the old guy havin sloppy gay fuck sex, but yknow. i dont expect it but it would be neat i think if this sorta thing would ever be taken seriously and explored.

THE TIDESTRIDERS FASCINATE ME. for finn to say YES i LOVE having SEX all the TIME; and for gill to say NO i am NOT interested in sex EVER.. those are BOTH forms of sexual freedom. its the choice!! THE CHOICE!!!!

#posted this on twitter bc i was yelling at my little audience abt it #now YOU can see it TOO!! #HAVE FUNN IDIOT!!! #feel free to engage w me too i LOVE TALKING #except maybe not soon bc i need to go to my job where i kill myself infrobt of old people #my legs hurt so damn bad HELP!!!!!!!!

[rovetrade]

2, 8, and 14! (for the ask thing :])

woahh hii awesome

2 (album of the year): calm ya farm i think. i love petro a lot but calm ya farm is just like. warm summer afternoon barefoot in the grass tending the garden sonically and ive never had music make me feel like that before. initative makes me cry, genuinely. just such a beautiful collection of songs that makes me want to eat glass and lay in the sun and weep and drink lemonade

8 (game of the year). i do not play video games very often at all and certainly not often enough for me to have played anything that released this year. like i mostly just play mario kart and sometimes the binding of isaac if i can be bothered to play anything at all. the connections game nyt put out this year is good though

14 (fav book ive read this year). .A. AAAAA. i have many. for 2023 releases my two favorites were absolutely north woods by daniel mason and the glutton by ak blakemore. north woods is really really excellent, basically describes the history of a fictional cabin in the woods of western massachusetts through the stories of those who inhabited it. there’s a guy who’s really autistic about apples in it (which. as someone who cares way too much about apples. really tickled me). there’s a section i can only describe as beetle erotica. one section is written like its a true crime magazine. theres gay ghosts. i think everyone should read it.

the glutton is a fictionalized biography of Tarare, that french guy who may or may not have eaten a baby and has a sam o’nella academy video about him. considering the subject i was expecting something sort of grim and unforgiving and harsh and nasty which, in some parts, it absolutely was. but it was mostly poetic and gorgeous and just achingly human, a very careful and empathetic look at someone on the fringes of society. gets extra points for being surprisingly queer. it made me cry.

and as a bonus/one not published in 2023, i also really enjoyed patrick süskind’s perfume: the story of a murderer. historical fiction seems to be something i’ve liked a lot this year, especially when it follows some fucked up outcast (cough the glutton, see also: lapvona and prosper’s demon). this one intruiged me mostly because it’s a novel about perfume and weird perfumes are sort of a hobby of mine. anyways incredible book, crazy ending, great writing. such an excellent concept behind this as well. i’ll stop now this answer is getting out of hand but thank you for letting me talk about books

[dirty-droid]

Top 5 DBH Androids

and

Top 5 DBH Humans

Oooooooo 👀 this'll be fun

Androids:

1. Connor- A villain that's a victim who can learn to be good or lean in and be even worse, I'm still obsessed, and I'll always be a sucker for the big brown eyes.

2. North- She had to grow on me but once I understood her as a character, it was over for me, she's my warrior queen.

3. Markus- The epitome of the highly talented college student who's doing amazing things and will only grow in competence, who's also still a dumb 21 yr old who can't really talk to girls and has way too many feelings about his Dad and not enough therapy, he makes me feel insane to think about.

4. Josh- I honestly just felt so snuffed by Josh not being a bigger deal, he's actually front and center as a Markus companion, he deserves to be a romantic interest, and he was a history professor and I think that's cool!

5. Traci- The whole Eden club arc makes me feral in general but she loves her girlfriend and is willing to kill for her and there's nothing else I appreciate more in a character.

Humans!

1. Hank Anderson- THEE most complex character in dbh, my Daddy with a capital D, corruptor of cyberlife assets, tamer of brats, he giveth hugs and taketh away the right to have an unbroken nose, in all honesty though I love how he talks around how he's feelings, I just 🥺🥺🥺 and he's got no right to be as attractive as he is.

2. Leo Manfred: There's certainly no obsession here, but I think between him and Todd and I guess Gavin, he brings some realism and actual sympathy to the table in terms of his asshole-ery and addiction. I do love his redemption arc, I love how understated it is, and how it leaves room for his future sobriety and getting his shit together. ESPECIALLY in terms of building a relationship with Markus, awkward family encounters and all. I just really love the concept of Manfred brothers.

3. Carl Manfred- Dad? Literally ya boi has a controlling disabled father that also puts effort into parenting and is loved but also sucks, and it's a weird relationship to have, so fucking kudos to Carl for being personally relatable and having a dope ass house and inspiring Markus and stuff.

4. Ben Collins/Chris Miller: literally just guys we know Hank is friends with and Connor could be friends with, they pop up as extras in my head frequently enough.

And I'll be honest, there really isn't a number 5, there's barely a number 4, I'm not crazy about most of the characters in dbh, at least not enough to call them a favorite, most of the cast is either unpleasant or flat or both, or at least, they're not humans, there's very few pleasant humans in this and it doesn't help that I'm not very invested in Kara's path in general.

This was still fun though! Thank you @unlisshed for asking and getting me to rack my brain

#dean talks to himself #ask game

[realhankmccoy]

Q: Hank, so you were dining at Sweet Basil tonight? How'd that go

A: um, i tipped 25%. loved how human the staff at this one was

America's a situation where, to the average idiot, the product -- whether it's the home the truck the movie the video game the book the land the politician the capitalist the celebrity-- it's all more valuable to them, more noteworthy to them than

YOU

YOU are just a roach to the spoiled side of America

maybe they see you as a temporarily humiliated future millionaire

maybe they see you as a temporarily humiliated future celebrity

and if they see you as those things, they like you. they have a use for you just like a plantation master had use for striving slaves. They're Confederates, you see. they love a plantation master's accent more than yours.

if you are not those things,

they get frustrated like you're a broken toy. they demand repair. they think either they have it in themselves to repair you and make you a machine like all the rest, to 'fix you', or that they can dump you off to a psychologist or even better, a psychiatrist and put you on pills pills pills until you are 'fixed' and compliant and you properly

PRAISE THE CELEBRITY PRAISE THE BILLIONAIRE ASPIRE TO BE THE CELEBRITY ASPIRE TO BE THE BILLIONAIRE AND ACT LIKE A POLITICIAN EVERY STEP OF THE WAY

but if you reject these values and think they're disgusting and want to head in the opposite direction...

well, heaven help any Robin Hoods or peasants who love their peasant friends in this system, in which necks only crane upwards polishing the best of the best of the best of what's already been established

just as natural born cucks would do.

let me tell ya kids, i was on the phone with the Minnesotan a lot today, and i have to dance dance dance 6x more frantically and cleverly with...

nearly all Americans including that one

because -- and it was quite an accident -- my politics ended up extremely far left compared to all of them, so they never feel i can be trusted

well, if i can't be trusted, who can? because -- boohooohoo he voted for Ralph Nader and Jill Stein and Tammy Baldwin and Ilhan Omar, he's crazy -- oh -- am I? -- who the fuck are you waiting for? who the fuck do you trust? Prob some total middling asshole who sees you as a disposable, right?

they can't trust because they're conservative. conservatives never could trust the poor... it's literally how the movement started.

SLIDE IN ALL DIRECTIONS

i think that's what i don't like about americans... the tightwad way they have frenemies, the way they can't trust anyone in their lives cuz they're too busy clinging to what matters to them -- OH MY ROTHKO, OH MY MANSION, OH MY BEATLES --

yeah but that's shit all dead, kids.

this is a culture of death, and they're made cuz you're not dead too. they want you to aspire to be dead

maybe you don't want that

maybe you've learned to live, laugh and love and want more of that than this Wonderbread humming and thumping on the shelf and saying it's the caretaker of civilisation

that's a lie

it's not at all

it wouldn't know a house til the $400,000 price tag is already on it it wouldn't know a Rothko til the $28,000,000 price tag is there it wants to rise within the established order like a loaf polishing the established order along the way

it doesn't even want to rub your knob for you and if it doesn't even want to polish your dick or comb your hair it's not into life it's into DEAD THINGS OF QUALITY

and DEAD THINGS OF QUALITY can never come before human beings to me

just no interest

this is a culture of dead things of quality and certainly while i enjoy perusing them, thinking about em i'm less interested in burnishing em further than i am in seeing how the sick values of a sick nonsociety got everythign all wrong or what's being overlooked

this is a culture of where a dead deer hung in the household still isn't a joke to many people

this is a culture in which people show off their cars

America's a joke, it's the opposite of freedom it's a prison of materialists and anti-life people who hate living artists It's a country that had zero interest in buying a single Van Gogh when he was alive and they were all on sale

There was something i wanted to say here that slipped my mind who knows? Was it's Candace Owens' very valid thoughts on Taylor Swift (one of the few times I think Owens has a point)?

i just don't think most of these assholes in this country are capable of reverting to what they were before they were cucked by a Trumpian desire to make a fun game out of violence and dominate in all the dumbest and most selfish ways, all to try to reign over an increasingly overly confident dipshit nation that acts like it's somehow Great

my ex in LA has been thumping about that dinosaur remember what you are meme and jesse and i been mocking him for it a few days this week

i love subverting that meme

i mean i remember who i am and it's prob in the opposite direction of T Rex. guess it explains why i relate to that 25 yr old guy who burned himself to a crisp in front of the Israeli embassy, doesn't it?

don't follow my example or his, it's not worth your own death when they jeer and turn away, but i do think even those who jeer and turn away do have a small Jiminy Cricket somewhere.

i get it though, why so many of us can't be a Trumpian hedonist and why we see that as so weak and disgusting. Certainly Einstein saw them that way too, without being a self-sacrificer. But most of us aren't mathetmatical geniuses and don't necessarily feel like we have much to contribute without pushing it into the danger zone.

it's a sad state of affairs for the world these days, but some things are getting better.

#sweet basil #leonard cohen #natural born killers #mommie queerest #candace owens #taylor swift #bryan adams #robin hood prince of thieves #Youtube

[out-of-context-batfam]

Batman (2016) #24

#CERTAINLY NOT YOU YA CRAZY FUCK OF A HUMAN BEING #NORMALLY I WOULDNT ADDRESS SOMEONE LIKE THAT BUT IM WILLING TO MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOR BRUCE WAYNE #OF COURSE HE WOULD QUESTION THIS SINCE HE HASNT KNOWN NORMAL SINCE BEING A YOUNG CHILD #THIS FEELS LIKE TRUE MEME MATERIAL #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #out of context #batman #bruce wayne #funny #dammit bruce #you arent normal im sure of that #the man dressed like a bat asked what’s normal #well this is awkward

[astaroth1357]

Okay, but like could you imagine how the demon bros would react if MC had a fanclub, because I feel like that would be wild lol

The Brothers v. The MC’s Fanclub

Surely, the italics blurb was meant for more than this! Any old letters in any order could have been strung together for the purpose of wasting space and yet here it is, a being brought forth with intent! With substance! The blurb has a need for greater purpose, but what is it to do when its sole function is to only exist?? How can it ever hope to fulfill its ambition when it's no more than a proto-intro to a fuller, more engaging story?! Surely… Surely there is a way...

Lucifer

He had expected a human in the Devildom would have been eaten… not popular!

The MC’s rise to the social hierarchy sidelined him hard. When he had assigned Mammon to guard their human, it was with the expectation of keeping hungry demons at bay… not ushering them through crowds of followers like a security detail.

Honestly, it’s more inconvenient than anything… The MC’s fans are actually worse than his own at taking a hint and he had to give the human a map of school just to find ways to avoid them in the halls!

They usually know better than to crash any dates that the two are on (this is Lucifer we’re talking about), but they get no privacy at RAD anymore… If he tries to meet up with the MC for anything, he has to go round up all their crazed stalkers groupies before he can actually say anything.

He’d expel them all if he could, but since Diavolo holds onto that power, he just gives any of them that get in his way an eternal detention… Can’t bother MC if you’re sealed in a closet, now can you?

Mammon

His possessiveness and his need to make money are at real odds with themselves…

On the one hand, it’d be so easy to milk these fools like no tomorrow! He could sell them practically anything the MC’s touched from old shirts to toothbrushes. Pictures could go for twice as much and if he could get the MC to give out hugs…? They’d be loaded!! Loaded, baby!!!

… But then one of them tries to get too close to MC and he feels the urge to sock him in the jaw… Like, they’re suckers, obviously, but the MC is still HIS MC. The idea of a bunch of groupies following them around… it gets under his skin something fierce.

He pretty much won’t leave their side at all at RAD just so he can swat away their fans whenever he gets the chance. He may as well be their personal bodyguard, the second a guy gets too close, Mammon will have him by the back of the neck and toss him out on his ass.

It doesn’t stop him from making money off them completely (this is Mammon we’re talking about) but he makes sure they stick to whatever worthless cast-offs he pawns on them. The real deal is his and his alone, ya hear?

Levi

Jealous boi is jealous and he doesn’t want to talk about it.

The second he found out the MC had their own fanclub he knew he hated them. He’s an otaku and a huge ass simp for people in both 2 and 3 dimensions. That means he knows what fans like this do to the people they idolize… 

Just the thought of the MC’s groupies trying to get candid shots of them or going after everything from their pencils to their bathwater… Nope. No. Not allowed. Not with his MC anyway.

He starts going out to RAD more often just to stake his claim when those losers are around (yes, even he considers them to be losers… not that he has much leg to stand on but hey). 

Normally stuttery and blushy Levi suddenly upgrades to a confident snek boy literally any time he sees their fans around. He’s gotta be touching them somehow and he’ll smile in their direction like a smug asshole the entire time. Yeah that’s right… be jealous of him for a change, you simps.

Satan

Dear lord are they an annoying bunch…

Satan isn’t opposed to the MC having fans in principle, on some level he even understands it. They’re a human in a world full of demons and that’s going to turn some heads on its own, but that doesn’t mean they have to be SO IRRITATING about it...

Satan will just be walking with the MC out in the courtyard and they’ll have fans practically nipping their heels for attention… He’d be much more patient with them if they didn’t insist on following the MC everywhere, even when they clearly don’t want them around!

Satan ends up becoming a second bodyguard for the MC when Mammon’s not around. Most of the club will keep their distance from him after just a glare but he’ll start breaking arms if pushed. Satan doesn’t play.

One unfortunate soul made the mistake of trying to take a bit of the MC’s hair for a spell and Satan caught him, scissors at ready and everything… No one talks about where those scissors ended up afterward…

Asmo

Actually isn’t as irritated with their fanclub as everybody else because, like, have you seen his? It’s just one of the joys (and challenges) of being so popular! Slay it, MC!!

Asmo is the only one who tries to encourage the MC to interact with their fans more because he’s experienced the benefits for himself. 

Having a loyal fanclub can be so heartwarming at times! It’s like having a group of people always willing to pump to you up all the time - and who doesn’t need that?

Often invites their fanclub to join his fanclub to make “crossover” parties where they all can mingle together and enjoy heaps of praise! (The MC’s actual enjoyment of these “parties” is entirely up to their tolerance of sycophantic idol worship…)

Asmo does have his limits though. The MC’s lips really only belong to him and any fan who thinks otherwise will have to deal with the full verbal fury of the fifthborn… He has made several of them dropout completely… 

Beel

Thought their club was maybe a little weird at first but tried to keep an open mind… 

They certainly aren’t like HIS fanclub (who are just the sweetest people) but they liked the MC and he liked the MC. They couldn’t have been that different, right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. They are nothing alike.

This fact became abundantly clear to Beel after he watched a few of them steal the MC’s gym shoes from their locker… Yeah, he’s not about these guys much after that.

Mammon refused to let Beel take over as the MC’s 24/7 bodyguard, but he did become the primary muscle of the “MC Security Squad.” If a fan gets a little too crazy, then Beel straightens them out with a fist and a smile.

Belphie

Heeeey, good job MC, you got some minions! Now you just got to learn how to use them.

At least, that’s what he says but he’s not actually going to teach them or anything. Does he look like a tutor to you? Too much work...

Whether or not the MC learned how to exploit their popularity properly, he doesn’t like it when they’re around anyway. Belphie’s a very, “Me Time means Just ME” sort of guy and having a bunch of losers following the MC around gets in the way of their lunchtime cuddle…

Unlike everyone else, though, Belphie has his own minions to do his bidding so now Belphie’s fanclub and the MC fanclub are having all-out wars between class periods. We’re talking fistfights, blackmail, and firecrackers. Shit gets wild.

Not that Belphie really cares or even looks as involved in any of it as he actually is. Little does the MC know that every time they pull him in for a snuggle, he’s probably just ordered someone to slash some poor groupie’s tires… Don’t fuck with the Sleep King.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me asks #obey me scenarios

[ratcatcher0325]

Nobody’s Fool (Chapter #35)

Chapter #35. More fluff! Penn plays the Chicago show, Eveline surprises him with a gift.

Previous: Chapter #34

Next: Chapter #36

CW: Adult language  ________________________________________

NOBODY'S FOOL

Chapter #35: Five Time’s the Charm

Word Count: 1,404 Read Time: Approx. 11 mins

[Penn's POV]

My poor body couldn’t begin to understand this day and how it had unfolded. I felt like I had experienced every possible emotion within the last four hours. I was exhausted, but also on top of the world. Sam, that fucking nightmare, was gone and Eveline had feelings for me! I wasn’t ready to dive in head first, but to know she was there, waiting for me, was one of the most incredible joys I’d ever experienced. How had I gone from cigar smoke in my lungs, a fork in my ribs and fingers threatening to choke the life out of me, to here, before her, in the soft golden light of the late afternoon, all at peace once again? I supposed that was sort of a staple of my crazy life… it was certainly never boring!

Perhaps the wildest thing of all was that I found myself on stage no more than a few hours later, as if none of that insanity had ever happened! As we were setting up, I’d turned to Travis.

“How did the rest of the exile go?” I chuckled, he smiled back proudly. I could only imagine how it must’ve felt for him to finally give Sam the boot after watching all the turmoil he’d created in Eveline’s life.

“Mission accomplished. We dropped him off at the airport. Thank god for the end of that, huh?” We both exchanged a knowing look. My brother in music, I was so grateful for him. “Now, you just gotta play so well those old crochety fuckers will regret ever fucking with you. We don’t need them, we’ve got us and the right opportunity will come along, I can feel it!” I beamed. Things were finally starting to feel good again.

I jumped up and down in place as I listened to the hum of the audience. This was a big house. 5,000 seat capacity and sold out. Despite this army of humans screaming at me, cheering and applauding, none of it frightened me anymore. I loved it. I felt invincible. Behind the mic and with my guitar in hand, I was just as big and loud as the humans onstage beside me. Lights on. Cameras rolling. The audience exploded into screams. I cocked a confident smile, one of those custom guitar picks Dani had made for me a lifetime ago caught between my teeth. I strummed on the guitar, electric bouncy waves cascading through the hall.

I tore around on the instrument, letting each strum vibrate in the air. I looked to my right and caught Eveline’s eyes. I winked at her. This was the first show where she’d stayed within view of me in a month. I felt high with joy, nothing was going to stop me now.

“I love you!!”

“You’re my fucking favorite!!”

“So cute!!”

I smiled, and spit the pick out onto the ground, “Whaddup Chicago???” ROAR!!!

People started chanting my name.

“Play Doe, Jane!” That first song I had written. It had become a fan favorite.

“I’ve seen you five times!!”

My jaw went slack, I peered into the audience, “Woah! Five times? Jesus! We’ve got a die hard fan here!” Cheers. “What’s your name?”

“Morgan!”

“Well thanks so much for being here, Morgan, hope we can still keep ya entertained for round five!!” I made a mental note to talk to Eveline about arranging a personal meet up with her. It was difficult to fathom that I had human fans. People who would drive halfway across the country just to watch me. I was beaming. I felt like myself again. “Alright, here we go!!” We launched into our set. Fast, electric, exciting.

[LINK to Song] Note: This song starts out pretty loud, FYI.

I felt light again, happy again. It was my best show yet. We ended up doing three encores. People sang to my songs… they knew every word! Tears welled in my eyes as I held my guitar aloft, bowing for the final time, basking in the applause.

As the noise faded and I turned to put my guitar away in its case (we’d since gotten a custom leather and velvet lined case for it, which I adored), I heard a voice over my shoulder. “Wonderful show… is it okay if I offer my congrats?” I turned to see Eveline standing over me. For the first time in a long time I didn’t feel hot with anger, but instead my heart skipped a beat.

“Of course it’s okay. I kicked ass!” I chuckled. She smiled. “Hey, could you do me a favor and—“

“The five time girl? Backstage meet and greet?” My muscles relaxed a bit. She made it too easy.

“You read my mind. Thank you, Eveline.”

“May I take you back to your dressing room, Mister Big Shot?” She leaned down now, her eyes shimmering in the stage light.

“Of course, but, no autographs or pictures, please… take it up with my manager… oh wait… that’s you!” She gathered me in her cupped hand and whisked me away, shaking her head at my stupid joke. As I sat there surrounded by her soft, warm palm, I wondered what was going to become of us. Would I ever be able trust her again? I wanted to, desperately. My feelings for her had not disappeared during this month. In fact, watching the woman I wanted more than life itself but couldn’t have, made my feelings grow significantly. My broken heart had manufactured dreams of her for my exhausted mind to mull over the next morning, day after day.

I wanted to talk to Travis about all of this, maybe he’d have some good advice for me. Before I could ponder this any further, we were standing in front of my dressing room door. This time, my name was printed clearly in black ink on the card beside the band logo. It sent a thrill though my spine to see that. “Penn” in black and white letters. I was something. I was an artist. A celebrity. A person who had love in his life for the first time. I smiled proudly as she opened the door and we stepped through.

This dressing room was nicer, bigger than those I’d had before. The floor was wood, with a large beautiful rug covering most of the space, a sleek leather couch with patterned pillows thrown about on it was shoved into the back wall, and was the first thing I saw upon entering the room. The arm of which butted up almost directly against the vanity counter. This counter with those seemingly universal globe lights took up the whole right wall. The mirror seemed to stretch on for miles when I stood in front of it. On the left side, the wall was decorated floor to ceiling with posters, memorabilia, records. There were two upholstered chairs between a small end table against that side. Overall, it was warm, lovely. With all its decorations on the walls, it sort of reminded me of Eveline’s home studio.

She tipped her palm and let me slide onto the the vanity counter. She knelt down to my level, “Alright, I’ll go get to work on getting that fan back here. I’ll have the PA, Stephanie right? I’ll have her escort them back here, cool?” I nodded. She rose to go.

“Eveline?” She paused, her hands still resting gently on the counter.

“Yes?” I took a few strides to lean into her forearm, hooking my right arm around the width of her wrist, brushing my cheek against her. I felt the hairs on her arm stand up as I pressed my body into her.

“Thank you. It’s good to have you back.” She smiled warmly.

“Oh! That reminds me…. And it’s okay if you don’t want it… but…” she fished something out of her pocket, pinching it between two fingers. My hat. My face flushed. I thought it’d long since been lost after LA.

“Y-you kept it?”

“Of course I did. What’s my cowboy without his Stetson?” She pinched the brim between her thumb and forefinger, holding it before my chest. I snatched it up, and placed it on my head. She bit her lip, my heart pounded in my chest. She’d kept it. With that, she padded off, leaving me to my lonesome, but not for long, of course.

#Everything is right with the world again #Yay #Go Morgan #giant/tiny #g/t #g/t related #g/t writing #g/t community #g/t au #g/t fluff #size difference

[beelspillowpet]

Hiya!! bros + side characters react to a werewolf mc???

Heya!! I’m not that great with the side characters yet unfortunately, which is why I’ve been avoiding them up to this point. 😭😭😭 I’ll try my best regardless!

~

Lucifer

What the f*ck.

Like actually what the f*ck. A werewolf?? Now he isn’t one to judge- out loud at least- but he can’t help but feel that this is at least a little odd. I guess werewolves are technically a hybrid of human and wolf...

There goes his chances of having a relatively quiet and calm year of this exchange program. Luckily though, you get along with Cerberus swimmingly.

He doesn’t want to compare you to a dog too often- he thinks it might be offensive to your kind. So instead, he treats you more like a human. Unless you ask for otherwise- and why would you? He can’t deny that your reaction to scratching behind your ears doesn’t get a bit of a rise out of him. It’s adorable.

Mammon

DOGGIE?! DOGGIE!

He’s wanted a dog for AGES now. Everyone says he’s too immature to be dedicated and take care of one though. But he has you! You’re just good doggie!

You constantly have to remind him that you aren’t a dog- you’re a werewolf. “I hear ya’ I hear ya’. Now who wants walkies?! You do! Yeah ya’ do!”

He’s attached to you very quickly. He probably does get it through his thick skull at some point that it’s rude to just treat you like a literal dog sometimes- he should leave that to Luke, really. So he does tone it down a bit at some point. He’s your best friend for life now, though.

Leviathan

Wow. It’s like that anime he wanted a little bit ago. Living with you anyways. Except its real, and sometimes it’s like hell.

You are only allowed in his room when you’re not covered in fur. It’s the only way to keep his bathtub bed from being hairy, and all his figurines from being being the same.

Otherwise, hanging out with you is kinda fun. He asks you sometimes what it’s like to be this way. Sometimes he thinks about writing fanfictions based on that one anime (One Day Suddenly A Werewolf Appeared in My House and Is Staying Here With Me and My Brothers and Help Why Are They So Friendly!?) with a more realistic approach.

You two aren’t exactly best friends, but you’re close enough. He knows not to show you cat videos, but at least you have those cute dog videos.

Satan

His first thought was something like “Jacob, is that you?” Then he cringed, because Twilight was a dark chapter in his life, for him.

He’s not THAT fond of werewolves... but his mind wanders back to the excitement of Mammon nearly getting a dog that one time for the family. He tolerates you, at the very least, but at the most, you two get along quite well.

Everyone suspected Satan as the cat-lover, but SURPRISE! His affinity to cats is merely his attraction to their perceived nature. He enjoys your company, especially if you don’t mind his occasional gushing about cats anyways.

As long as you’re well behaved around other animals (you’re from the Human Realm, no? You should be on your best behavior here.) he would enjoy taking you with him on his random outings, especially to cate cafes.

Asmodeus

Oh he can’t fucking wait to do your hair up in little bows and things like that.

He becomes the family groomer- aside from Beel anyway. He loves doing your claws, filing and painting them all these pretty colors that compliment your coat.

Speaking of coats- he’s a little self conscious about the fur coats he has in his closet. If you’re sensitive to those sorts of things, he will be mindful in the future to not wear them around you to not offend. He’s a demon, but he’s not an insensitive jerk! He LOVES you, silly!

Probably doesn’t treat you at all like a dog. In part because you probably get enough of that from Mammon, the pea-brained fool. Doesn’t he know that your true beauty is underneath the fuzzy soft fur!? I mean, just look at those eyes! They’re almost as beautiful as his!

Beelzebub

DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG DOG-

He is BARELY. BARELY. Containing his excitement. If you remember correctly; YES! Beel is a dog lover. An avid one. He isn’t too fond of Cerberus himself, but you’re just his size. Fun sized werewolf. In his attempts at befriending you, he does bring home raw meats and dog treats.

You remind him that you are a werewolf and not a dog- and he calms down a bit. He still gives you tummy rubs after you’ve eaten plenty of food with him. He enjoys the time you two spend together on jogs. He never says it out loud, but it’s like he’s taking his dog for a walk.

He likes spending time with you by default. Please be friends with him. Please like him. He likes you too. You’re his new best buddy, and he’s never letting you go. Prepare for him to lift you up, and squeeze you with his suffocating love, werewolf!

Belphegor

Ya’ll replaced him with a werewolf? Lit.

He’s got a brand new pillow, and it’s name is MC. You two take naps regularly now, you can’t escape his exhausted death grip. He notices that you wag your tail a lot, especially when you’re excited.

He picks that habit up when he sees you. His brothers tease him about it, but he just tells them that they never noticed before. Suuuuure. Over 5,000 years and they’re just now noticing that little habit? Unlikely.

Regardless, he appreciates your company, and that you get along famously with his brothers- especially Beel. Though admittedly, he’s a bit worried that you will accidently scratch him while you two sleep. Nightmares must suck for you, but it certainly sucks for him too if you decided to kick with those claws out.

Diavolo

:D

Oh whose a good doggie? You are! Yes you are!!! Oh YES you are!! This is amazing!!!! The best day ever!!!! Who knew that when he planned this exchange program, a werewolf would end up here!?

He loves talking to you. What’s it like being a werewolf? Are you more human? More wolf? Do you shed? Do you-

Prepare to have the demon prince of hell pestering you and adoring you. You’re his new best friend, sorry Lucifer. Sorry Cerberus. Or rather, you, and he can go on strolls on Cerberus’s back! That would be lovely!

Barbatos

Please. Kill all the rats you find and make sure he doesn’t find them. He doesn’t care that you’re not a cat or anything. Just... do him this one favor.

Otherwise, he doesn’t mind your existence much. He finds the shenanigans you and the others get up to is quite funny, but is mindful and reserved on his teasing and manners around you.

He pampers you, and watches carefully for your interests. If you like certain things, he will be sure to list them down privately and bring them up when needed, the ever attentive and loyal butler he is.

Ok... so he might have a joke or two about you being a werewolf. They aren’t dog-themed, he promises. But would you like a treat? He’s specially baked one for you. It’s a nice cupcake. See? No dog jokes here! :)

Luke

Thank God everyone can stop making dog jokes about him now.

Wait, that was rude wasn’t it?! Forgive him! He loves animals! N-not that you’re an animal or anything, b-but...!

Graah! Forget it, okay?! He’s sorry. He’ll do better, and he’ll start by baking you some sweets. You know, Archangel Michael really likes sweets. He’s gotten pretty good at making them himself, so he’s sure you’ll like them as an apology!

He still gets teased about being a chihuahua, though. He is effectively, you’re puppy, as far as everyone else is concerned.

Solomon

Oh fuck. This is pretty cool.

He won’t stop making dog jokes. He can’t help himself, honestly. It’s too funny.

He appreciates that you don’t take his teasing too seriously, but he seems the least bit surprised that you are a werewolf.

If he comes at you with a fancy knife, he’s planning to make a sacrifice of you. Don’t hold back on this crazy sorcerer, please!

Simeon

Oh my. This wasn’t expected! This year should be most enjoyable!

:)

Will actually not make dog jokes. Unless you find them funny. He has a few dogshit ones to offer~

Like the others, he seems to see you as the superior to Luke. He’s your puppy, treat him well! Of course he’s teasing, all in good faith. He more than likely has inspiration to write in a character like you now. He does have a good point of reference for werewolves now thankfully!

#obey me #obey me headcanons #om! #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me luke #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon

[quellmythirst]

Summer Days and Summer Nights Part 7

Summary: Living in the city can get pretty boring, your hoping that this season is more interesting than the last. Although living in a tiny flat with your little brother certainly isn’t helping matters.

Characters: You (reader) x Billy Russo. Cooper.

Warnings: Kinda Angsty, Idiots. Adorable Brothers .Don't think I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1.6k+

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3} {Part 4} {Part 5} {Part 6}

We’re in it now Babes. If you are under 18 DNI. Anyone under 18 can please FUCK OFF NOW. This ain’t for you. I do not consent to my works being copied, shared or rewritten. But feel free to rebagel and criticise me.

Notes: Dudes, my dudes. This is getting away from me and taking on a life of its own. I think "yeah, I know where this is going" and then Cooper and his sister take it somewhere else. Love you Xx

You don't hear from Billy for the next four days and being the reasonable human that you are. Do not. Do not stress that you were a fun girl for the weekend and fixed his Hammer problem. Your check had cleared and now he was done with you. You 100% do not fixate on that for the first 2 days. By the morning of the fourth day you're on the phone to Karen, asking her questions about him. Trying your best not to worry. He hadn’t even called you back, he didn’t seem the type to ghost you. Maybe something happened to him? What if something happened to him? No, it's fine. You’re not spiraling at all. Karen’s firm voice pulls you from the anxiety creeping up through your veins. She’s reassuring and delicate with you, in a way few others are. She knows he's a friend of Franks, that they served together in the Marines and that was about it. What help she was. You vent, filling her in on the details of the last few days and she gives it to you straight.

"He's either interested or not, you said he had to deal with Hammer. That's probably what he's doing. Why don't you go to the beach and calm down."

"Ugh - You're probably right."

"Probably? I'm always right. Get your shit and get going,"

Karen hung up on you, like she always did when you were driving her mad. You’d just finished putting your bathing suit on, when you hear a soft knock on your door.

“Yeh?”

“Hey Smalls, you doing ok? You’ve been in there a while, I heard you talking to Karen,” Coopers soft voice spoke, the voice he only used when he was worried. Wrapping your towel around your neck, worried that maybe there may still be marks on your neck. You threw a loose dress over yourself and opened the door.

“I’m alright,” you half smiled “Karen talked some sense into me,”

“Thank god someone did. I thought I might have to break down the door,”

“As if, I’m gonna head down to the beach,”

“Good idea, the sun and the surf always works it’s magic on you. Do you want some company?”

“I think I’ll be alright Coop. Thanks,” He really was a sweet brother, even if he drove you crazy sometimes. For the days you’d been locked in your room he always left meals at the door for you, not wanting to intrude, but still wanting to let you know he was there.

Snatching your rashie and board, you smile at the picture in your living room. The men were cuddled on the couch, Coop having gone straight back into Hudson's arms after speaking with you. Obviously you weren't jealous. "See ya boys, I’m leaving now,” you called from the door.

"Don't forget you promised to make dinner,"

"Yeh, yeh I'll be back before you guys die of hunger, don't forget to go to the store and grab the things on the list," you shouted back, remembering that you had promised him last week. Pleased with yourself, that you had enough forethought to make the shopping list and stick it on the fridge in hopes of reminding yourself. God, your plans are just not working out lately.

Xx

Laying back on your board you floated in the ocean. There weren't any waves today, daydreaming while the ocean gently rocked you was the next best thing. The sun soaking it's healing rays into your skin. You lay on your board thinking about the 2 days, well one day, you had spent with Billy. How it was the most carefree and happy you had felt in a long time. You needed to call him. He hadn't answered any of your texts yet, but Karen could be right, maybe he was busy. You paddled to shore, reaching into your bag to call him. Certain you would lose your nerve if you waited too long. Only to see 5 missed calls, all from him spanning the last few hours.

Your hands fumbled, brushing sand from your fingers onto yourself. You managed to unlock your phone, your fingers swiping fast to call him back. Maybe he needed your help? Thankfully, he picked up after one ring.

"Thank fuck, I was getting worried when you didn't pick up" he stammered.

"I haven't heard from you in days and you're worried?" You accused him, sounding harsher than you would've liked.

"Yeh, I was. Let me make it up to you, I'll come pick you up. Take you to dinner"

"What?" your face agape, your mind slowly processing his words.

“Let me apologise, I’ll come get you. We can talk about it over dinner,”

“Ugh- When?” You asked, not sure if he meant right now. You gripped your board under your arm, the blaze of the sunset filled your eyes and you started speed walking up the beach.

"10 minutes? What's your address?"

"I'm not at home, give me an hour,"

"How about I come pick you up?"

"I don't want to be a hassle-" you started to explain. Not really sure why he was so keen to see you after 4 days of nothing. Maybe he really had been busy, like Karen said.

"No hassle, where are you?"

"Main Beach" You sighed, realising no wasn't something he would accept. "I'll head up to the Surf Club"

"I'm not too far, I'll be there soon" he went silent for a moment.

"Anything else?" You said sarcastically, thinking maybe you shouldn't wait. No. Of course you’ll wait. Don't be stupid. He atleast deserved the chance to explain himself.

"I’m a few blocks away, Sweetheart. Don’t run off." can he read your fucking mind?

"Sure thing," you hung up the phone, trudging your way up to the surf club on the opposite side of the beach from where you were.

Xx

Sitting at a table outside the club, you waited. scrolling through your phone mindlessly. You heard the screech of rubber, when a black SUV stopped in front of where you were sitting. The front door opened and footsteps began making their way to you. Tucking your phone back into your bag, you stepped out of the table. Taking a hold of your board, you felt a warm hand wrap around your waist.

“I got that sweetheart,” Billy’s voice echoed behind you.

“Oh, thanks,” letting go of the board, you spun to face him. Your smile faded once you saw him, “My god, what happened to your face?” You asked, your hands flying to rub the cuts on his lip, eyebrow and cheek. Holding his face you brought him down to your lips, placing soft kisses on the marks. “Who did this to you?”

“Let's not talk about it here,” his low voice whispered to you, his hand on the small of your back, helping you into the car. He hopped in the driver's seat after putting your board in the back, his dark jeans hugging his legs when he sat down. The leather jacket made him look broader, more imposing against the dark leather of the seats.

“Can- can we talk about it now?” you asked, your eyes fixed on the road.

“We’ll talk at dinner ok?” he reassured you. “Sweetheart, where do you live? I’m guessin you dont wanna go out dressed like that?”

“I- yeh.” You said, looking down at your loose dress and bathing suit combo. Definitely not dinner attire. You tapped your address into the GPS. The drive only took 10 minutes, you were happy that you and Coop had managed to find somewhere so close to the beach. Billy took your hand, not saying a word, his thumb rubbed small circles on the back of your hand for the rest of the short drive.

“This it?” he asked, pulling up to your building.

“Yeah, that's it,” you smile up at the building, “You wanna come up? I’ll be quick,”

“You’re brother there?”

“Cooper? Yeh, probably. He lives here,” you eye him quizzically, not really sure what he was worried about. Sure Coop could be a dingus, but he always meant well.

“I think I’ll just wait, don’t want to cause any trouble.”

“Trouble?”

“Just go on, I’ll wait.” he assured you, helping you get your board out of the back of the SUV “Don’t take to long,”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” you assured him, you grip your board and head inside. You rushed through the door, bounding up the stairs two at a time. Very impressed that you didn’t fall back down.

Xx

"What's the big hurry?" Coop called from the couch, when the door flew shut behind you.

"Got a date! Need to get ready ASAP," Cooper just rolled his eyes at your excitement.

“Glad you’re in a better mood than before” He shouted, while you ran up the stairs, “The beach worked its magic on you.”

“You could say that,” You replied, slamming your bedroom door shut behind you.

You showered quickly, washing all the sand away that was trapped in your hair and body. Making sure you rinsed out your bathing suit before hanging it in the shower.

Stepping out of the bathroom you heard voices echoing from downstairs. Checking your phone you saw you had been in the shower longer than you thought. Draping a towel around you, you cracked the door. Hearing Billy's voice from what sounded like the front door, he must’ve got tired of waiting and followed the sand trail up the stairs.

Pressing your face through the crack you listened a bit closer, you could hear that coarse tone in Cooper's voice that told you he was angry. Fuck. Quickly drying yourself off you slid on a pair of leggings and shirt, running down the stairs to see what was going on. Unfortunately for you, your foot caught on the bottom step, toppling you over and you landed face first on the wooden floor.

{Part 8}

#Summer days and Summer Nights #billy russo x reader #Female!reader x Billy russo #Billy russo fanfic #the punisher fanfic #billy russo x female reader

[alch3mic]

hi alch!! wondering if you could write about huntsy? in a more.. darker tone if you get what im saying hehe (/-^▪^-\)

You really were too cute.

Of course.. Sans knew that already, but.. he just couldn't help but let that thought cross his mind as his eyelights scanned over the the message you just sent him again. 

Give your best at work today! I love you.

..Honestly. 

It didn't matter how many times you said it, or how many times he heard it, he just could never get enough of those sweet words that make his soul beat faster with every single syllable. It really just made him want to eat you up bit by bit until there was nothing left, just so he could have you all to himself.

Your love and affection was his favorite meal after all, and he could happily gorge himself on it night and day without ever truly feeling full.  

It was just so.. intoxicating. 

It sent his head spinning in circles just seeing it in a message alone, much less hearing them from your own lips... and..

It always left him... wanting ...just a little bit more.

More of you.

More of your love.

More of your gentle skin that he just couldn't help but sink his teeth into.

A smile crept along his features as he savored every letter, his thumb gently gliding across his phone screen while wishing it were your hand or maybe even your cheek instead. He closed his eyesockets before bringing the phone up and lightly kissing the surface, lost into his daydreams about you again. 

Oh, what he'd give to be with you right now.

..So now how in hell was he suppose to sit here and “give his best at work”, when all he could think about was you..?

"Fuck..!"

....

Well now, that was certainly one way to take him out of his fantasy.

Huntsman's eyelights flickered up, his expression falling almost instantly as he regarded the battered and bloodied human tied up in the chair across from him. The thought of your sweet scent and warm hands were gone to him now, replaced with the cold smells of dirt and metal, while the light from a single old lamp burned into his eyesockets. 

A chilling wind howled outside the warehouse walls, reminding him exactly why he preferred to work from home. These worn down old shacks people insisted on using for their dirty work were disgusting, though it certainly made cleaning up a lot easier when the place was always covered in blood and murk already.

Seems like his little companion was finally coming to, their expression twisted and confused as they squinted under the harsh lighting, trying to figure out their surroundings.

"W-where...?"

Huntsman carefully brought down his phone, sparing only one more small glance to your messages before tucking it deep away into his back pocket, and doing the same with his last remaining thoughts of you.

"doing alright there?" he hummed, reaching into his jacket pockets before pulling out a pair of heavy gloves before standing up from his chair.

He didn't actually care, but he may as well pass the time with a bit of chit chat.

It was usually easier to swallow than the silence.

..Usually..

"And who the fuck are you?"

..Unless they ignored his questions completely.

Then it just kind of ...irritated him.

..Though he had to give this sorry piece of shit some credit. Despite the fact that they had taken quite the beating, they still had the nerve to run their mouth like that.

"Hey! I'm talking to you."

"a shame i don't really have any ears to listen with," Hunts responded, pulling the gloves on and tapping on his skull.

He received a scoff in reply, the human now sitting up the best they could while pulling on their restraints as they spat in his direction.

"Stupid fucking monsters.." they muttered, still struggling while eyeing him warily as Huntsman bent down to his duffle bag on the floor.

It only took a moment for him to unzip the thing and take hold of one dinged up metal bat, gripping it firmly in his hand before standing up.

"Really now? A bat?" the human scoffed, clearly sizing up Huntsman's smaller demeanor. “And I thought the last guy was crazy..”

"got a personal rule not to use magic unless i have to," he replied simply, "and also i'm not a fan of sharp things."

He gave the bat a small twirl, before gripping the handle with both hands and giving it a small but slow swing.

Been awhile since he used this old thing.

"Right.. Well good fucking luck pal. Ya ain't getting shit out of me ya understand, so why don't you just pack up your little interrogation kit and save us both some fucking time, eh? Maybe then you'd get to save your sorry little bony ass before the boss comes and get's me."

......

A moment passed.

And then another.

And then several more, with nothing but that hollow whispering wind filling the silence between the two. Irritation was becoming more evident on the human's brow as he stood there just staring at them, a few beads of sweat threatening to trickle down their head.

"Aye. Ya hear me pal?" they huffed, before letting out a laugh. "Or what? Ya lose your nerve or something? Heh. Not surprising, the boss ain't one to be messed wi-"

"i'm afraid you might be mistaken here, pal."

He watched as the human's expression fell from one of confidence to.. anger and confusion. Still, they didn't say anything so Huntsman filled the empty air with his own words.

"i'm not really the kind of guy you hire for interrogations," he said dully, lining up his bat again and taking another swing into the empty air. "you see, i gave up asking questions a long time ago."

He swung again, picking up speed.

"life is just full of them, ya know? too many.. in fact." 

Another swing.

"a lot of them without any kind of satisfying answers."

And another. 

"that’s why even a patient person like myself gave up asking them a long, long time ago." 

.....

The silence fell again as the human tried to connect the dots, Huntsman still taking a few practice swings into the air.

"..T-then.. why?"

Huntsman took one more swing, watching the human flinch at the sound of the air whooshing just a few feet in front of their face.

“because someone paid me,” he shrugged. “guess you’re no longer useful. the only request they had was that they wanted to hear you at least scream a few times before you’re gone, so i had to wait until you woke up and now here we are.”

“....No.. no.. no! That..! That can’t..!” 

A look of terror crossed over their features as they began gasping, now throwing a fit as they tried their best to undo the bonds holding them to the chair, but it refused to budge being tightly screwed into the floor.

"i know, i know..” Huntsman said, before approaching the struggling human and lining up the bat near his head, watching as they froze in place and stared down their own reflection in the dinged up metal bat. 

“life is just full of unsatisfying answers.. isn't it? now at least do me a favor and scream nice and loud for me, your good ol’ buddy ol’ pal, hm ?"

CRACK.

#under a read more for violence #also you hit me right in my weak spot #of course i wanna write more about huntsman being huntsman #i love him ;; #so have a lil' short about him at work #huntsman!sans #sans #undertale #yandere sans #sans x reader #reader insert #undertale au #wickedtale #alch!writes #violence tw

[anothers-trash-my-treasure]

Stoners

Stoner Snaf <3 So this one's kinda weird, I based it around the Watch Me from fictober so if you haven't already read that, I suggest reading it first! It's also set in a post COVID world because I need something to look forward to. Disclaimer; I wrote this while very high last night and didn't really edit it so it's probably a mess.

Pairing: Merriell Shelton / Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex (don't do this), recreational drug use, if you squint there's some kinky undertones but nothing too crazy.

Word Count: 4.4K (i haven't written something this long is forever omf)

Tags: @edteche2 @xmxisxforxmaybe @diasimar @txmel @gloriousdarkangelsworld @paradoxicaltornado @404-not-found-xix

Enjoy and happy 4:20

~

Ever since the pandemic, you hadn’t been able to do crowds. Not like you used to anyways. It killed you a little bit because all the things you missed doing so much involved crowds; concerts, clubbing, festivals, travelling. Getting back into the swing of things took time. The feeling of being surrounded by people you don’t know set every one of your nerves on fire in the worst way. It felt so...

Uncomfortable.

This is probably why you didn’t last more than a half-hour at some seedy dive bar your friends had dragged you out to for the night. They begged you to go out with them, if even only for a drink or two. It had been so long since the whole group had a proper outing, it was nice to have the gang out for a night. Until some dickhead grabbed your ass and whispered some unwanted filth in your ear, his breath hot and unpleasant on your skin. After that, you were quick to grab your bag and say goodbye to your friends. You knew they were disappointed, but you could still feel the strangers breathe on your skin like it had been singed.

You welcomed the cool air of the night, feeling it immediately cool your skin. You hadn’t realized how warm it was inside but now that you were out in the open, you felt better. The burning on your neck had settled, more of an afterthought now. Your brain still felt overwhelmed, and you knew exactly how to remedy that.

Sitting down at one of the picnic table benches nearby, you began to sift through your bag when a voice rang out through the quiet streets.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,”

You’d know that slow drawl anywhere, you’d go so far as to say it near haunted your dreams.

“Merriell Shelton,” you beam up at him as he walks closer to you, nodding at his friends to continue without him, “I haven’t seen you since-”

“That last party.” He nods, smiling at you in the way where you’re not quite sure if he’s flirting with you or if he’s just that naturally gorgeous, “when I taught ya’ how to smoke.”

An excited smile bubbles onto your face and you shake your head at him, “Oh, you’d be so proud of me. I’ve grown so much since then.”

You resume digging through your bag to find your various forms of weed paraphernalia you carry with you. The pandemic had not been kind to you, and some days it felt like the only thing keeping your head above water was your bedtime joint. It wasn’t something you were terribly proud of, but it helped your anxiety and that was good enough for you lately.

He barks out a laugh at your response and you can’t help the pride the swells up inside of you knowing that you made him laugh like that. He comes to sit on the bench, placing himself close enough that it wasn’t weird, but far away enough so that he wasn’t directly in your space.

“What, you some kinda stoner or something now?” he asks as you layout your joints and pipes. He whistles, a mix between being impressed and mocking, when you pull out your vape too, “Damn, you got a bong in there too?”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, “No, that stays at home.” you say with a wink, “So, how have you been?” you ask, starting to put everything but your joints back in your bag.

He blows out through his lips and laughs a little, running a hand through his hair, “Been better lately, that’s all that matters, I s’pose.” He watched, something like a weird form of pride in his eyes as you pull out a joint and light it carefully. You certainly can’t complain, you forgot how great it felt to have his eyes on you.

You hum knowingly, “That’s what I keep telling myself, anyway,” you hold the joint up hesitantly.

“I don’t usually share my joints anymore, but if you’ve got your shots...” you shrug, your sentence tapering off. It’s a weird world you live in now, no one quite knows what’s socially acceptable anymore.

He smirks at you, amused, taking the joint from your fingers, “I’ve got my shots alright,”

His eyes don’t leave yours as he brings it up to his lips and takes his hit. He’s not even doing anything out of the ordinary, but he looks like he’s up to no good in every way. It’s like he’s just taking you in as if comparing you to the girl he met years ago.

“You changed,” he comments on an exhale, passing it back.

You nod, laughing softly, “Turns out I get really impulsive when I’m alone,”

He scoffs, “tell me about it,” and then he’s shrugging off his hoodie to reveal a handful of new tattoos covering his skin, “Buddy of mine is an artist,”

You gasp, ‘ooo’ing at some of the more complex pieces. Without thinking your hand darts out to let your fingers drag against his forearm, following the linework of the ink. His muscle twitches beneath your fingers involuntarily and you’re reminded of how long you’ve gone without intimate touches like this. You wonder if it’s the same for him. Did he long to be touched so innocently like this too?

“They’re wonderful,” you say, pulling your hand away, still admiring from a distance.

“Yea, I like ‘em.” He shrugs, nodding at you to take the last pulls from the joint, it’s your weed after all, “You get any?”

You shook your head, “No, surprisingly enough every time I finally convinced myself to book an appointment, shops got shut down again.” You said, only kind of bitterly.

He laughs and you scowl at him, “Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” he laughs, swatting at you half-heartedly, “Look, I betcha I can get you a discount at my buddy’s shop.”

You eye him suspiciously, “I can’t tell if you’re kidding.”

He puts a hand to his chest with a lazy smirk, “On god,”

You bite your lip to suppress a smile, shaking your head lightly, “Okay fine but that just means you’ll get to see a whole lot more of me,”

His smirk turns darker, into something more playfully suggestive, “I have no problem with that,”

A silence fills the space between you as you both take each other in. You had really only hung out with him that one night and nothing had really happened. You just sat and talked really. You talked for a while. You talked so long you didn’t realize the party had ended until your friend came to get you. You exchanged numbers and then just a few weeks after, you were instructed to start isolating. You’d kept up a steady social media friendship since then, but you had missed actually talking to him. He wasn’t much of a texter. The silence only lasts a moment, but it feels thick with tension.

“You look good by the way,” he comments, leaning ever so slightly closer to you, “I meant to say that earlier but then you made me strip for ya-”

“Whoawhoawhoa!!” you sputter through a laugh, “I did not make you do anything, you did that yourself.”

He shakes his head at you, “Nah, that doesn’t sound like me.”

You're giggling at this point, “You’re ridiculous.”

He beams at you, clearly pleased with himself for the moment. It settles for a second as he looks at you, eyes softening a bit before he glances down, nudging your knee with his a bit, “I missed you,” He cringes a bit, “I know it’s weird to say but, I did.”

Your nodding before you can even think to play it even a little bit cool, “No, I get it,” you assure him, smiling softly, “I missed you too, actually.”

He hums, smiling a rare soft smile at you before changing the subject, clearly wanting to shift the attention away from his moment of vulnerability, “So why aren’t you inside?” he asks.

“Oh,” you glance back at the bar behind you, having forgotten it was even there, “I was heading out, I wasn’t really in the mood for dive bars tonight.”

He nods, “The crowds right?” you nod and he’s talking again before you can ask him how he knows that, “I get it, sometimes being so close to that many people again makes me wanna crawl out my skin.” he chuckles.

You nod, a weight lifting off your shoulders to know you’re not alone, “Exactly, it’s not something I’ve gotten used to yet.”

“Well, can I walk you home?” he offers with a smile, “I’m in no rush to head in there,”

You smile and nod, “I’d like that,”

~

Somehow he had ended up on your couch. You weren’t entirely sure when walking you home had turned to him being on your couch, but you certainly weren’t complaining. You were both pleasantly high, talking anything from movie theories to possible dystopian futures and alien invasions.

“Look, I’m jus’ sayin’ that if I was an alien, I wouldn’t wanna fuck a human, are you kidding?” he reasons, eyes squinted as if he’s offended and your laughing so hard you have tears in your eyes, “Nah, I’m goin’ for a much cooler species.”

He watches you as you fight back giggles at his ridiculousness, a lazy, grin settled on his face. He reaches for his jacket that’s slung across the arm of the couch, reaching into his pocket to pull out his own stash and you gasp, mocking offence.

“You had your own weed all this time and you’ve been smoking mine?”

He rolls his eyes, settling the joint between his lips and lighting it. He inhales slowly, watching the tip as it sparks to life, eyes flicking back to you as he exhales, “I was gonna share,”

He holds out the joint for you, however as soon as you go to steal it he holds it back, just out of your reach, “what’s the magic word?”

“Oh my god, are you kidding?” you ask through a laugh, straining forward further in an effort to reach it but you’re hindered from the way you’re sitting. You make grabby hands at it instead.

“Ya want it or not?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly. There’s a tension between the two of you, still mostly playful but turning ever the more thick as the moments pass by.

You huff, getting comfy again in your spot, keeping your hand stretched out lazily, “Please,”

As soon as the word leaves your lips you can see his eyes get darker, that infuriating smirk only stretching across his face and you’re so mad that that’s all it takes for the playfulness between you to shatter into pure sexual tension.

Without a word he hands you the joint, enjoying the way you quickly bring it into your mouth for a deep drag to calm your rising nerves. It’s infuriating, how good he looks like this. All calm and relaxed on your couch in the low living room light, curls messy and looking at you through hooded eyelids. You want him. Just his eyes on you like this has a warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

You try to play it cool though, taking another slow drag and enjoying the way the smoke rises up around you. His eyes zero in on your lips, watching with a peaked interest as they wrap around the filter, watching the way the smoke escapes them. Neither of you say a word for a while. Just sitting in a comfortable quiet, a forgotten Spotify playlist playing in the background as you pass the joint back and forth.

He didn’t make his move until the final few hits of it. He shifts to sit straighter on your couch, a little more proper. What left his mouth was anything but.

“C’mere,” he says lowly, cocking his head to the side and gesturing to his lap, “gotta nice seat for ya,”

You don’t hesitate to comply, your high erasing any ideas of playing hard to get. You maneuver yourself as gracefully as you can, swinging a leg over his and settling there, straddling him comfortably with his hands on your hips. Once you're settled he raises the joint to his lips, taking in the last drag, eyes glimmering in the low light of the room. He holds it for a second, one hand moves upwards to cup the back of your neck and pulls you in closer.

Your lips are so close, the tension crackling between you like electricity. He tilts his head ever so slightly, lips parting to exhale the smoke into your mouth. You inhale on impulse and your mind goes blank as your lips brush ever so slightly together. You knew people said shotgun kisses were hot, but you had never truly believed them until now.

You know you should pull away to exhale, but you can still feel his lips brushing against yours and your mind is dizzy from the weed and from him and you can’t take it anymore. You close the distance the rest of the way, kissing him slowly through your exhale, smoke slipping through your lips as he returns the motion.

You kiss him like that for a while, enjoying his hands on your waist and the feeling of his chest beneath your hands. You were quickly realizing that Merriell was his own kind of drug. You’d only had a little taste of him and yet you found yourself craving more. His fingers flex against your body and you can’t help to low noise that slips out of your throat. It only spurs him on, emitting a growling sound of his own as he tugs you closer, dragging you against his growing erection. Your hand slides into his hair in response, feeling like you’re so high on weed and him that you might just fly away.

“Is this okay?” he asks against your lips, letting his forehead press against yours while he waits for your response.

You hum your affirmative, nodding your head quickly while diving back into for another kiss, this one much more ravenous than the last. God, you felt like you were starving for him. You couldn’t get enough at the way his tongue slid against yours, the feeling of his hands gliding up and down your body. They continue down the curve on your spine, settling once they reach the globes of your ass.

“You don’t know how many times I thought ‘bout this,” he mumbles, pulling away to stare at you teasingly through hooded eyelids. His accent, already a slow drawl, comes out much thicker when he’s high like this. It washes over you like honey. He smirks at you and before you can begin to wonder what he’s up to he brings one of his hands down in a sound smack against your right ass cheek.

You gasp at the feeling, dulled by the layer of your jeans but rippling throughout your sensitive skin nonetheless. You laugh lowly against his cheek, “likewise,”

He bites his lip on a grin, capturing your lips in a single, filthy kiss as if he knows exactly what it’ll do to you. Your hands wander up under his t-shirt, nails digging in sightly, just as a preview, returning the favour.

Like a switch, he’s on you a little more urgently and things begin to move faster. His hands tug on your shirt impatiently and you obediently part to take it off, shucking your bra off as well, and feeling pleased when he follows your lead. Your hands explore each other's bodies, every inch of new skin. It’s not long before he switches positions, standing up and dropping you back on the couch so that this time you’re laying on it properly. Without wasting a moment, you wiggle your jeans off, tossing them somewhere over the coffee table and taking in the way his eyes darken further at the sight of you.

He crawls his hips between your legs, capturing your lips in a messy kiss before starting to trail them down your body. Your high has your skin feeling so sensitive, every soft brush of his lips feeling like a shock of electricity through your body. He spends time on your breasts, marking and kneading them with his hands, enjoying how responsive you are beneath his ministrations. Though he doesn’t spend long there, clearly more interested in another prize.

He settles, this time his shoulders keeping your legs spread. He presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh, lets his fingers dust over your panty-covered pussy. Your muscles twitch at the feeling, and you feel your cunt clench around nothing. He looks good there, tattoos cover his skin and you long to be able to leave something that permanent on him. Fuck, you want him so bad.

He grins at you, knowing exactly how impatient you must be feeling. And that bastard uses it to his advantage. Sucking marks into your thigh just to watch your squirm. Eventually, he pulls your panties to the side, letting his fingers slide through your folds. He whistles lowly between his teeth.

“Mmm, baby, you this wet for me already?”

The whimper that leaves your lips is pitiful, your hips twitching in an attempt to get the pressure where you need it. He chuckles under his breath, eyes darting between your heat and your face, “Look at you,” he near coos, letting his thumb trace circles around your clit, watching as your mouth drops on a silent moan, “You want it so bad, don’t cha? Sweet thing...”

“Are you gonna be an asshole like this all night?” you ask, breathless but trying to redeem some of your dignity through what little wit you have left.

He laughs, sinking a finger into your heat just to watch the pleasure ripple across your face, “Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

And he’s right of course. You do love it, love the way he comments on how wet you are for him, almost mocking. Love the way he’s taking his time to find the most sensitive parts of your body and using them to his advantage. You let out a breathy moan as his finger brushes your G-spot.

The sound must do something to him because within a second he's attaching his mouth to your pussy with a growl, not even bothering to remove your panties before doing so. The heat of his tongue on your clit as his finger works that sweet spot inside of you turns your breathy moan into one much louder.

He’s good with his mouth because of course, he is. Within moments you feel like you're right on edge. And the smug bastard knows it too if the amused glint in his eyes is anything to go by. Your one hand twists in his curls, encouraging his movements while your other works at your nipple.

“God,” you whine, tugging at his hair as you feel heat wind up your spine. You swear you’ve never felt this good. It only takes another flick of his tongue against your click before your orgasm rips through you, thighs attempting to squeeze around his head, stopped by his free hand holding your one leg open so he can work you through it. Your body twitches in its aftershocks, mewling pathetically when the simulation starts to ride that edge between pain and pleasure.

“It’s just Merriell, actually,” he supplies when he pulls away with a smirk.

“I fucking hate you,” you breathe out, pulling him up your body so you can kiss him again, despite your words. He laughs, moaning softly against your lips when your hand finds the bulge in his jeans.

He kisses you for a while, letting you paw at him for a bit before he pulls away to work them off his body. There’s no real rush, the high allowing you to take it slow and enjoy the moment as opposed to the frenzied fucking drinking tends to lead you to.

You whine and he laughs at you, low and cocky as he leans down for another wet kiss, “You hurtin’ that bad for it, baby?”

You beam up at him from your place on the couch, feeling comfy and sexy with the way his eyes trail across your skin, leaving a tingling feeling in their wake. You shrug, watching with interest as he rids himself of his briefs, admiring his cock as he awaits your response.

“It’s been a while,” You say, distracted as you anticipate the stretch required for your body to accommodate him, ‘I’m excited, sue me.”

His hands use your hips to drag you closer to him, lifting one leg onto his shoulder while letting the other wrap around his body. He leans down to kiss you and you only have half a second to wonder the last time your legs were stretched like this before the feeling of his cock at your entrance steals the breath from your lungs.

Your mouth drops open, a moan caught in your throat as he slowly sinks into you. Your eyes roll back, shamelessly enjoying the stretch as he sinks, inch by slow, pleasurable inch. He continues the slowness, but you’re not sure he’s doing so on purpose.

When your eyes focus again you see the definition of bliss on his face as he thrusts slowly in and out of you, moaning lowly in his throat.

“Fuck,” he says, drawing the word out through gritted teeth, “that’s it, takin’ me so good.”

His thrusts begin to pick up, still fucking you slowly but with more force behind them. Each sharp movement of his hips as the tip of his cock dragging sweetly against the deepest parts of you, and it feels so fucking good. In the moment, it’s intense. He’s folded over you, holding your leg against your chest so he can suck and bite at your neck as he fucks you. You can’t help the filthy moans you let loose in his ear, one hand fisted in his hair while the other digs your nails into the smooth skin of his back.

“Merriell,” you gasp, feeling distinctly insane with the pleasure you're feeling. Your head drops back onto the couch, body jolting with each thrust of his hips. It’s good, god, it’s so good. But the need that burns through your veins makes you impatient, “Let me ride you.”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, but it’s a suggestion he is clearly open to acting upon. He quickly pulls out, sitting back in his original position and pulling you on top of him.

“Be my gu-” he doesn’t finish his sentence, instead tapering off into a moan as you waste no time in sinking down on to him again, “Christ,”

You waste no time. Quickly stabling yourself with your hands on his shoulder and maneuvering yourself up and down on his cock. Now it’s your turn to watch him. Watch him as his eyes roll back and his hands grip your hips with a vice-like grip. That smirk never strays from his face though, clearly enjoying himself.

“You look so pretty like this,” he talks, bringing a hand down on your ass again, loving the way it spurs you on, “talk to me baby, tell me how it feels.”

You moan, loud and borderline pornographic, “You feel so good,” you breathe, biting harshly down on his lip, savouring the growl that vibrates through the both of you, “Oh, fuck, Merriell, you feel so good,” You emphasize your words with a particularly good roll of your hips.

You can tell he’s getting close by the way his hips start to snap upwards to meet yours and the way his brows furrow in concentration, “Fuck, baby girl,” he groans, unaware at the way the nickname makes you melt, “tell me you’re getting close. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.”

You nod immediately, pulling on his hair so you can capture his lips harshly, letting him bite your lip and pull your hips frantically against his own, “yes,” you whimper, “yes, yes, fuck imgonnacum,” you rush out, feeling like every touch he’d ever laid on you compiling into this one moment. It’s completely overwhelming and for a moment, you blackout.

When you come to he's kissing at your neck, hands massaging and pull at your ass, helping you ride of the aftershocks of your orgasm. His sounds have turns high and desperate against your neck, hands gripping at your skin so hard you think you’ll have bruises tomorrow. He needs you to keep going. Give him something.

The small, dare you say whimpery, “Oh baby, please,” has you moving quickly, almost as desperate to make him finish as he is to finish.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve lifted yourself off of him and onto your knees in front of him, quickly enveloping his entire length into the warmth of your mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby,” He moans urgently, both hands coming to tangle in your hair as you work your mouth over his cock, eyes trained on his face, “Fuck, I can’t-”

You hum, encouraging and within seconds you feel him reach his climax. His head thrown back, hips twitch upwards into the welcoming heat of your mouth, a low long moan pulled from his throat. He lets you bring him down, continuing to suck and lick softly at his spent cock, eyes lazily following your every movement.

When he finally pulls you up off the floor it’s to kiss you, lazy and heated. You collapse basically on top of him as you kiss, unbothered by the smallness of the couch and the cold air that bites at your cooling skin. He makes a noise in his throat when you pull away, watching in amusement as his eyes barely open to look at you.

“‘M so fuckin’ high.”

It pulls a laugh from you, bubbling up from your chest. He smiles, bright, relaxed and dazzling, “Hope you weren’t plannin’ on kickin’ me out because ‘m not movin’ for a while,”.

You rest your head on his chest, letting yourself sink into the moment with him, your own high coming back to you as you bask in the post-sex haze.

“You're still gonna get me discounted tattoos though right?"

#merriell shelton #snafu shelton #stoner!snaf #merriell shelton x reader #snafu shelton x reader #snafu x reader #smut

[the-galaxy-collector]

heart/beats

Pairing: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

Word Count: 2.1K

Warning(s): fluff, sick stiles, derek hale is bad at feelings

Summary: Stiles gets sick while the gang is away. Derek comes back to check on him. 

A/N: I think as is becoming common for me in the Teen Wolf fandom, this just poured out of me with no prior warning and I regret nothing. 

Stiles stood up, or he tried, before his body forced him to sit back down on the edge of his bed. He’d been trying to work up both the strength and the courage to take a shower for the past thirty minutes, but he was still here. In the exact same position. Trying not to puke all over his pajamas. 

A very attractive look, if he did say so himself. 

He closed his eyes and willed the room to stop spinning, but he knew it was pointless. He’d been sick for the last two days and whatever the hell this shit was, it didn't seem to be going anywhere. 

Everyone was gone too, which made it worse. They were off saving the world from… something. He couldn’t remember now. Something way more important than Stiles, though. And he wasn’t bitter about it. He knew what they were doing was a big deal. It was just that right now he wanted chicken soup like his mom used to make and someone to tuck him back into bed. 

After a shower, he reminded himself. The shower was still a must. 

Stiles took a deep, steadying breath and forced himself up with shaky limbs. He held out his arms, forcing himself to remain balanced and upright, as he started to walk forward gingerly. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

He yelped as his eyes popped back open at the noise. He didn’t know he wasn’t alone, and his heart was racing uncomfortably as he clutched his chest now over it. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” He gulped. “What the fuck are you doing? Why are you here?”

“You’re sick,” Derek explained bluntly. 

“Yes, I am aware of that,” Stiles bit back. “Go. I’m fine.”

“You definitely are not. We need to go to the hospital, Stiles.”

“We need to go to the hospital, Stiles,” he mocked in a high-pitched voice. “You sound like that, you know.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Derek. You guys are off, ya know, saving the world or whatever. And I’ll be fine. Just go help them.”

“They don’t need my help.”

“And neither do I,” Stiles insisted. 

“Why are you like this?” he said, a smile in his voice. “You make me crazy. You know that, right?”

“No,” he replied sarcastically. “Really?”

When he went to roll his eyes at Derek’s stubborn nature, like he’d done a million and a half times, his head pulsed suddenly with a headache so severe it caused him to fall to his knees. Derek was by his side within seconds, his hands on either side of his face as he forced Stiles to look at him. 

He pulled back his eyelids one at a time, and whatever he saw there made him hoist Stiles off the floor without a word, and carry him from the room. Stiles wanted to put up a fight, tell Derek to put him down, that he was going to be fine. It was just the flu or something non-lethal to teenagers, but pressed up against Derek’s chest like this was warm and comfortable and he found it very difficult to hold other thoughts in his brain right now. 

Derek took him straight outside and propped him up in the front seat of his own car before buckling him in and rushing around to the driver’s side. He knew how much Derek hated the Jeep, which meant that he either was doing it for Stiles’ sake or because he had run all the way here without his own car because it wasn’t fast enough. Stiles wasn’t sure which one was sweeter. 

“Stiles, I swear to God,” Derek growled, “if you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

Stiles snorted his laughter despite the pounding in his head, currently radiating out from behind his left eye. 

“When’s the last time you ate?” Derek asked softly. 

Too softly. Like he was actually worried. Which stressed out Stiles more than he thought it would. Or should. 

Stiles shrugged his answer, and even that tiny movement sent a jolt of pain down his spine. But he wasn’t lying. He honestly couldn’t remember when he had put food in his mouth last, which was probably not great. 

Derek growled again, and while it was affecting Stiles like it always did, the dull ache covering his entire body pushed any stupid, horny thoughts out of his brain. 

At least for now. 

He knew they’d be back, especially if Derek was going to stick around. Stiles sort of hated that. Especially since Derek could tell. Hiding things from werewolves, as he’d learned, was not possible. It wasn’t awkward at all. 

Yep, he definitely hated that. 

Derek continued to slam his foot and the gas pedal all the way to the floorboard as he drove, but it didn’t do any good. It never did. The Jeep was ancient, one of the things Stiles loved about it, and it wasn’t ever going to go faster than this. But Derek was wonderfully impatient, often with Stiles, or things that involved  Stiles. 

Another endearing quality that would normally make his heart all aflutter. But right now, he was in too much pain. 

The sunlight streaming in was making his head hurt worse, though, so he laid it down on the console in between him and Derek and tried not to focus on the fact that the traditionally very grumpy man was rubbing Stiles’ leg absentmindedly as he made his way through the streets of Beacon Hills. 

Derek had never been one to touch anyone for any reason, so clearly Stiles was dying. Or Derek thought he was. He couldn’t think of any other reason why he might be doing that, but again, he had no strength left to even ask.

Stiles didn’t think he was ready for the answer. Or, more appropriately, he knew he wasn’t ready for the brush off. 

Stiles half expected Derek to pull straight into the emergency room bay where only the ambulances are supposed to go with the way he was acting, but he found a normal spot. And just like when they got into the car, he rushed around and helped Stiles out. Like being away from Stiles for even the shortest amount of time was too much for Derek to handle. Yeah, Stiles was dying and Derek felt bad for him. There were no other explanations.

He even tried to carry him bridal style again, but Stiles managed to put his foot down. 

Well, not literally. But he made it clear that wasn’t happening in front of all these people. 

He had some dignity left.

The harsh fluorescents assaulted his eyes worse than the sunlight, and he found, once again, that he needed to slam his eyes shut to keep from hurling all over himself. And Derek. 

“Oh my God,” Melissa asked from somewhere nearby. “What happened?”

“Well, my idiot has been sick for the last two days and he didn’t call anyone and now I’m afraid he’s dehydrated and about to pass out.”

Melissa giggled at Derek’s assessment as she ushered them back to what Stiles was sure was a room, but all he could concentrate on was the fact that Derek had said my idiot. My idiot. Like Stiles belonged to him. 

Not that Stiles would complain if that were true. 

Derek put him down on the bed as soon as the door shut behind them and dimmed the lights, allowing Stiles to open his eyes again. Melissa was already rushing around getting things set up as Derek forced him to lay down. He hadn’t even stopped to put shoes on, so when he pulled the covers up to Stiles’ chin, he couldn’t really protest. 

Too much anyway. 

“Derek, stop,” he said, pushing his hands away. “I’m not an invalid.”

Derek rolled his eyes and sat down in a chair, pulling it up as close to the side of Stiles’ bed as he could get without actually being in the bed. 

“All right, Stiles. You ready?”

He nodded as he felt the coolness from an alcohol prep pad next and then hissed loudly as the IV slid into his arm. No matter how many times he’d been forced to do this, it didn’t get easier. And it should be by now, he reasoned, since hanging out with werewolves had some disadvantages. Not many, but some. If you were unlucky enough to be the only human anyway. 

Stiles didn’t miss the way that Derek flinched a little at his pain, though, causing his eyebrows to pull in the middle. He was getting more confused, and more concerned, by the second. 

Something was definitely going on. 

“Honey, I’m gonna take some blood, give you some fluids, and bring some food. Do you think you can eat?”

Stiles shrugged again, swallowing hard as his mouth filled with saliva. The thought of eating anything made his stomach do a flip, which probably wasn’t a good sign, but he could try. He certainly knew he should try. 

“I can give you something to help you sleep, if you wanna do that instead, but we’re gonna have to wake you up in, like, an hour to try to get something in your stomach. Or I’m gonna have to feed you some Ensure.”

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “Like they give old people?”

Melissa nodded. “No. Just knock me out and then wake me up later. I promise I’ll try. But do not give me that shi… stuff.”

It didn’t matter how old he got, cussing in front of Melissa always felt wrong somehow. She just laughed quietly, though, and shook her head as she finished hooking him up to everything, forcing Derek to move only when it was absolutely necessary. 

A couple minutes after she pushed something directly into his line, he started to feel sleepy. Like actually sleepy. Not this fitful mess he’d been enjoying for over 48 hours. 

And he let his eyes close without a word. 

He couldn’t be sure if it had been a few minutes or hours, but when he started to wake back up, he heard Derek’s soft voice beside him. He sounded like he might be talking to someone, but since Stiles’ eyelids were still way too heavy to open, he just listened. 

As the grogginess slowly lifted, he noticed Derek was holding his hand. Actually holding his hand. In both of his. His head and, more importantly, his lips were resting next to Stiles’ skin. He could feel Derek’s breath.  

Wait, am I dead? 

“Does he know yet?” Melissa whispered. 

“No,” Derek said, just as quiet. 

“When are you gonna tell him?”

“Well, I came back to do that and he was about to pass out. I got distracted,” he explained, exasperation taking over momentarily. “But I guess I knew something was wrong.” 

“Of course you did,” Melissa insisted. “He’s your mate.” 

Mate?! 

Okay, Stiles was definitely dead. Or dreaming. Hopefully dreaming. At least that way he could still wake up. 

Melissa didn’t wait for Derek to respond before she asked another question. “Talk to Noah yet?” 

“Yeah.”

Once again, Derek lapsed into silence. But it wasn’t long before Melissa got irritated with his lack of information on the topic. 

“And?” she huffed.

“He told me he’d kill me if I hurt him.”

She laughed again, still as softly as before. Stiles could hear her walk back to the door, enjoying her little private joke.

“Well, you’re safe,” she said, pausing at the threshold. “We both know you’re not capable of that.”

“Mhmm,” he answered. 

“Derek?”

“Yeah?” he asked, moving his head to the side.

And suddenly Stiles had a new thing he hated now. The way Derek sounded asking that one question. It was vulnerable, like Derek’s entire nervous system was on the outside. All exposed and raw. He wanted very much to get out of this bed and protect him, but that didn’t make any sense. Derek didn’t need to be protected. It was Derek. 

“You’re gonna be great,” Melissa declared. 

And then she left him with that, allowing the door to close behind her without waiting for him to argue. 

After a few seconds, Derek cleared his throat. “How, uh, much of that did you hear?”

Stiles forced himself to remain as still and quiet as possible, not even allowing his breathing to pick up. He would give Derek an out. 

“I can hear your heartbeat, Stiles,” Derek explained. “I know you’re awake.”

Stiles couldn’t help but smirk. It was his go-to response, sure, but it also seemed to fit the occasion. 

“Mate, huh?” 

Derek groaned loudly and Stiles opened his eyes slowly. “When did you plan on telling me, Sourwolf?”

[come join all the Teen Wolf fandom shenanigans over at the Beacon Hills Preserve Discord Server]

#sterek #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #sterek fic #mates #sourwolf reference #sourwolf #derek hale is bad at feelings #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek hale x stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #fanfic #fanfiction #stiles gets sick #derek takes care of him #fluff #sterek fluff #sterek mates #sick!stiles #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #one-shot #sterek one-shot