#and no one had any real answers so I just kinda worked it out myself

[littleblondesoprano]

Y'all why are operating systems so fuckin DENSE

#littleblondesoprano #on all levels except physical I am the spongebob parties too hard and dies video #me all day: what the FUCK is a SYSTEM BUS AND I/O MODULE #and how the fuck do I FIND IT #it was just me playing dont-touch-the-kernel with my laptop trying to find anything with 'bus' in the system panel #answer: system bus and I/O module are not named that in your machine. for maximum pain-in-the-ass-ness - but aren't terrible to understand #me reading pages for developers: I am a writer :( #the professor was like 'compare and contrast system specs' and all the things I could find were like user stories #and GUI and i'm like: 'but I need the CORES. How are the PROCESSORS' #and no one had any real answers so I just kinda worked it out myself #pouring one out for all the coders and developers out there - y'all are fuckin crazy and I don't know how y'all do it.

[tgcg]

bad mouther, hole master

TG: kissing with tongue is gross as hell

CG: COME THE FUCK OFF IT.

TG: what

CG: I'M SAYING SHUT UP.

TG: oh

CG: IT'S NOT THAT WEIRD. IT'S LIKE THE NATURAL PROGRESSION OF REGULAR KISSING TO EVENTUALLY INCLUDE THAT. IF YOU HAD ANY SEMBLANCE OF ROMANCE GHOSTING THROUGH THE DEVOLVING REMNANTS OF YOUR THINKPAN YOU'D APPRECIATE WHAT IT BRINGS TO THE NUTRITION PLATFORM OF ANY CONSENTING CONCUPISCENT RELATIONSHIP!

TG: youre talking about it like its a goddamn military weapon or some shit

TG: some kinda scientific fuckin method to fondle a dudes mouth with your own mouth thats

TG: thats gross

TG: this isnt supposed to be a debate before fuckin congress on the pros and cons of getting your mack on

TG: its i would say a reasonably personal thing to react about and thats just my reaction man you dont gotta arbitrate it

TG: and like why the hell do they have to linger on it so long in these movies do they really want me to immerse myself in people necking each other that much

TG: roll the sounds around in my earholes like im swilling a fine fuckin wine

TG: well my professional opinion is that shit tastes and sounds mad gross and tbh i havent seen a single movie where it was close to being any kind of necessary

TG: its just a cringy waste of everyones time

CG: YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT, AND I DISAGREE WITH EVERYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR IGNORANCE GASH, YOU LUMP OF TIGHT-LIPPED CLUELESSNESS.

TG: did you just homestar me

CG: FOR THE SAKE OF ARGUMENT, SINCE YOU'RE APPARENTLY DESPERATE TO START SHIT WITH ME RIGHT NOW: HAVE YOU EVER EVEN DONE IT?

TG: hell no

CG: THANK YOU FOR PROVING MY POINT.

TG: proving your point--

TG: bro have uh

TG: have YOU???

CG: EXCUSE ME? HAVE I WHAT?

TG: come on

TG: i walked into this stupid conversation with a fucking shovel and by god am i digging myself a damn hole big and wide enough for every dave across time to squeeze in so i might as well get cosy in this shit before we all start collectively shoving dirt in our mouths

TG: bet your ass im taking you down with me though

TG: grab your spade and get digging man

CG: GRAB MY WHAT????????

TG: just tell me

CG: ???????!!!!!!!!

TG: karkat

CG: NO!

TG: f-

CG: WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!!!!! WHAT PART OF "SHUT UP" DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND????

TG: wait no

TG: oh my god dude

TG: you can spin that shit all you want but you can do it the hell away from me

TG: i do not need to be hip to your weirdo foursquare fantasies

TG: patently not my business

CG: STOP RIGHT THERE. JUST SHUT IT. I AM PUTTING US OUT OF OUR MISERY RIGHT NOW. I AM CONDUCTING AN ACT OF MERCY ON THIS INSANE FUCKING CONVERSATION AND YOU ARE GOING TO ZIP YOUR LIPS AND TAKE IT.

CG: HERE IT IS: YOUR SINGLE OPPORTUNITY TO PRETEND YOU NEVER SAID THAT TO ME. I AM GOING TO FORGET YOU MADE A COMPLETE MOCKERY OF ME AND MY CULTURE THIS ONE TIME. AND LET YOU CONTINUE TO DIG YOUR STUPID, SHITTY HOLE.

CG: AND DAVE, I AM BEGGING YOU NOT TO WASTE IT.

CG: TO ANSWER YOUR SHOCKINGLY INAPPROPRIATE QUESTION, NO I HAVE NOT DONE IT.

CG: WHO GIVES A FLYING FUCK.

CG: HAPPY?

TG: ……..

TG: way to defuse the situation solid work

TG: real gold star effort grabbin that lit wick and blowing on it

TG: ok first of all you asked me first so dont act like im the one being a weirdo about this

TG: second of all i didnt mean it like that and you know it

TG: THIRD of all what the hell was the point of engaging the knightly theatrics then if you cant even verify that shit

CG: WELL FUCK, SORRY DAVE! I GUESS I'M JUST A FUCKING ROMANCE ENTHUSIAST! I GUESS I GIVE A MAJOR SHIT ABOUT THE THING YOU'RE OPENLY MOCKING TO MY FACE! IS THAT SO IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO WRAP YOUR THOUGHT SPONGE AROUND?

CG: AND IT WAS COMPLETELY REASONABLE FOR ME TO ASK YOU THAT, YOU CONGEALED FETID NOOKSTAIN! MY STATUS ON THE MATTER HAS LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH THE POINT EITHER OF US IS TRYING TO MAKE.

CG: TRY TO KEEP YOUR NUGBONE FROM CAVING IN ON ITSELF WHEN I DROP THIS BOMBSHELL: I'M ALLOWED TO HAVE OPINIONS ON THINGS I ACTUALLY KNOW ABOUT, EVEN IF I HAVEN'T DONE THEM! I DON'T JUST GO TROUNCING THE FUCK ABOUT LOBBING MY UNFOUNDED OPINIONS AT PEOPLE LIKE I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT ANYTHING. UNLIKE SOMEONE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INVOLVED IN THIS CONVERSATION WE'RE HAVING RIGHT NOW!

TG: youre

CG: I’M TALKING ABOUT YOU BY THE WAY. THE SOMEONE IS YOU.

TG: oh gimme a break

TG: bro youre going apeshit over something you havent even done

TG: you know what that sounds like to me it sounds like an overcompensating fake fan who doesnt get any

TG: you heard of troll napoleon complex

CG: AT LEAST I ACTUALLY FORMED MY OPINION BASED ON CAREFUL CONSIDERATION --

TG: -- oh yeah i bet huh

CG: -- INSTEAD OF JUST BANKING ON NUBJERK --

TG: -- not a real thing you just said

CG: -- REACTIONS AND WRINKLING MY SNIFF NUB AT ANY SIGNS OF GENUINE PHYSICAL INTIMACY!

TG: stop saying nub

CG: YOU EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED BULGEWAD

TG: not too much worse than being a perpetual fountain of emotional diarrhea

CG: DON'T YOU DARE.

CG: DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO USE THAT AS A "GOTCHA", YOU--… YOU! FUCK!

TG: dude did you actually run out of insults

TG: okay this is getting concerning

TG: youre the international dude of verbal dunks

TG: that can not be happening

CG: AAGHRJRGHJRGRHJAGHRJGRHJAGRHJRGRHJRGRHRJR

TG: you cant run out of em youre like the ultimate peddler of hate

CG: YOU DON'T THINK I'M CRITICALLY AWARE OF THE HOOFBEASTSHIT I'M SPEWING NIGH FUCKING CONSTANTLY?! I AM PAINFULLY COGNIZANT OF HOW MORONIC EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS!!!!

TG: feel like ive done some damage here

CG: ESPECIALLY MYSELF!

TG: alright bud time to calm down

CG: YOU CALM DOWN!!!!

TG: okay whatever!

CG: WHATEVER!!!!!!!!

TG: jeez

…

TG: here

…

CG: UGH.

TG: yeah

TG: really glad stuff like this happens in private

CG: YEAH. SAME HERE.

CG: JEGUS, CAN WE GO BACK TO BEFORE WE HAD THIS CONVERSATION? I DON'T ASK YOU MANY FAVORS, SO SURELY YOUR SLURRY OF ILL-DEFINED TIME POWERS CAN ALLOW YOU TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

CG: JUST LIKE, WIPE THAT WHOLE THING OFF THE SLATE.

CG: LET'S START OVER. SAY, FIVE MINUTES AGO. HOW DOES THAT SOUND?

TG: what conversation?

CG: OKAY, GOTCHA.

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #comix #bad mouther hole master

[augustinewrites]

in the years bakugou katsuki’s friends have known him, they have learned that despite his loud and brash personality, he was a notoriously private person. he seldom posted on social media, rarely did interviews or showed up on talk shows. the media still ate him up, his evasiveness about his life outside of hero work only leaving people wondering just what he was hiding.

“are you sure this is the place, denks?”

he kept his private life hidden so well under wraps that he didn’t even tell his bestest friends in the whole wide world that he’d moved apartments. they’d found out by accident.

kaminari checks his phone again. “yeah! this place is on shinsou’s patrol route. i don’t think bakugou knows, but shin and i have seen him walk in here three times this week!”

simply entering a building on its own wouldn’t be enough to rouse suspicion. the first time, shinsou had reported that he’d seen bakugou wearing his uniform trailing behind a woman in a suit - someone from legal or pr, he assumed - and kaminari had thought it was for a witness interview and brushed it off.

the second time had been a little more unusual. it’d been bakugou on his own, dressed casually with his cap tipped low and his backpack slung over his shoulder. kaminari hadn’t had much time to think about that one because he’d been helping an old lady cross the street, so he’d just assumed he was visiting a friend or something.

the third time had been downright suspicious, because he’d seen bakugou dressed casually and carrying two bags of groceries in his arms. this occurrence had been downright suspicious, and had prompted kaminari to make a groupchat to share his findings.

kirishima glances around the busy street, humming. though it’s one of the wealthier districts in musutafu, the street is quiet, sleepy, dotted with small shops and street vendors. the closest agency is three blocks away, and it isn’t even bakugou’s. “it’s kinda far from our agency, don’t you think? it’s way off our patrol area, and his job is basically his life. why would he live here?”

“that’s what we’re here to find out,” kaminari shrugs, pocketing his phone. there’s a doorman stationed outside the building, sending the pair a polite grin as he holds the door open. “swanky place though, don’t you think? maybe i should get myself a nike deal too! then i can finally get out of shin’s place.”

___

katsuki’s just gotten out of the shower, stirring idly at the pot on the stove when he hears a knock at his front door. he flicks the heat down a notch before heading for the door to peek through the peephole.

that’s when pro-hero dynamight, number two on the hero billboards, and a role model for children everywhere, leans back and mutters, “fuck.”

another knock, a little more insistent this time. “hey, bakugou? you home? denks, if this isn’t his place this is gonna be real awkward.”

“fuck. fuck,” he glances over his shoulder at the bedroom, then back at the door. this wasn’t how everyone was supposed to find out. especially not ei and denki of all people, whose mouths were bigger than their combined iq.

he lets the analytic hero side of his brain assesses the situation first. the obvious answer is that he could just…not open the door. it’s a good, quick solution in the short term, but will still come back to bite him in the ass later. when it comes to his personal life, no wall (or door, in this case) could withstand the nosiness of his friends.

his other option was to, well, open the door. just a crack, of course. feeding the vultures a half-truth would placate them for the time being, so he could retreat and come back with a better plan.

“hey! bakugou!” kaminari cheers when he begrudgingly opens the door. “so you do live here!”

“last time i checked, yeah,” he huffs, staying planted firmly in the doorway. he treats this like he would any interview, shutting down any unwanted questions with blunt, half-answers. it’s usually enough to deter most reporters, but his friends have learned to shrug off his hostility simply because they lack any self-preservation skills.

“can we come in?” kirishima asks hopefully. “we wanna see your new place!”

“no.”

he rolls his eyes at their identical pouts. “why not?”

“because i can’t trust you both near things that can stain.” he gestures to the hall. “now can you please get out of here so i don’t burn dinner?”

“ugh, fine,” kaminari relents with a louder than necessary groan, which katsuki immediately finds suspicious, especially when the blond places a hand on his shoulder. “i gotta admit, this is a nice place, man, you did good. i’m proud of you.”

katsuki feels it a second too late– the light tingling that often precedes–

he curses through clenched teeth as kaminari shocks him with a voltage just shy of a taser, body folding as it fights the current. his so-called friends take the opportunity to push past him and into his living room.

“awe, look!” that electric dipshit coos, picking up a picture frame. “It’s a picture of all of us at graduation!”

“and look at this one! this one is of him and–” kirishima’s expression shifts into genuine surprise. “this is the head of our legal department…and you’re kissing her! on the mouth!”

of course it’s then that the bedroom door opens, three heads turning to see you walking out, toweling off your wet hair. “katsuki?”

the pro, still crumpled in the doorway, looks away as his friends do a double take, then fix him with wide eyed stares.

“katsuki!” you gasp, rushing to his side. “oh my god, are you okay?”

“‘m fine,” he coughs, letting you help him to his feet. “aside from the two ass clowns in our living room.”

“hey!”

“oh, ignore him,” you simper, pressing yourself into his side. “he loves you guys, but right now…i think he’d prefer to love you from afar. at least until our housewarming party!”

“housewarming party?!”

#bakugo katuski x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bnha drabble

[misc-obeyme]

To my surprise, nobody sent me a prompt for Lucifer for Kinktober. I don't mind, that means I got to choose. But I was surprised that he was the character that didn't get a submission!

Anyway, I decided to try writing voice kink for this one. Lucifer just has that deep voice, you know what I mean? I dunno, it felt like a good choice.

I maaaayyyy have gotten a little carried away. It ended up kinda long. Also do I maybe have a thing for MC getting it on with demons at RAD? Nope. Definitely not. The only other time I wrote about MC getting sexy at RAD, it happened with an angel. Satan in the library doesn't count, that's like a given.

ANYWAY. Here it is, hopefully it's not too terrible lol. I really need to work on my confidence in my smut writing.

KINKTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Lucifer

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: voice kink, semi-public, fingering (reader receiving)

You wandered the halls of RAD alone, on your way to class. You were a little early, so you were taking your time. The other students moved past you, everyone absorbed in their own lives, not paying you any attention. For once there were no demons by your side. You would see them in class, but you happened to have this moment to yourself.

That is, until your D.D.D. began to ring.

You pulled it out of your pocket and looked at the screen. It was Lucifer. What could he want? You knew he didn't have a class right then. He usually spent this time working in the student council room.

You answered it. "Hello?"

"Where are you right now, MC?"

You frowned. "I'm in the hall at RAD on my way to class. Do you need me?"

"Yes." Lucifer's voice had dropped nearly an entire octave. "I find myself fully distracted by thoughts of you and I can't get anything done. I need you here so that I can make you come in real life rather than just in my mind."

The depth of his voice, the rumble of need beneath his words, sent electricity through your veins. You managed to side step a small group of students, moving quickly to the wall, certain that anyone would be able to see the flush that was now on your face.

"Lucifer," you hissed into the phone. "Couldn't you have chosen a better time to say that to me?"

You heard a smug chuckle. "Consider yourself excused from class. Meet me in the student council room."

You didn't even have a chance to argue with him because he had hung up. You stared at your D.D.D. in disbelief. While it was certainly like Lucifer to be bossy, it wasn't like him to condone skipping class. But there had been something undeniable in his voice, something that still made you shiver a little.

You considered going to class anyway. He couldn't actually be upset with you about it, since that was the responsible thing to do. But it was too late for you now and he likely knew it. He knew what saying that to you in that deep voice of his would do.

You quickly made your way to the student council room, the halls thinning of people as you did so. Classes began and soon enough you were completely alone.

You paused before the door to the student council room. This location was also an unusual choice for Lucifer. Was he really that desperate?

You opened the door and stepped inside. The room was dark. Why were the lights off?

"MC."

You nearly jumped, but before you could turn around, there were arms around your waist. You felt Lucifer leaning in, his lips right beside your ear.

"Now that you're here, let us waste no time."

You shivered. But you also weren't about to let him get what he wanted so easily. You turned around in his arms and tugged on the jacket of his uniform. "What has gotten into you?" you asked, breathless. "It isn't like you to be so… needy."

Lucifer huffed and you could tell he was annoyed. You could only barely see him in the darkness of the room, but you recognized his familiar frown. "You say that as though it isn't your fault."

"My fault?" you demanded, but you didn't get anything else out because Lucifer had turned you around again. His hand was already down the front of your waistband, inching ever closer to your heat.

"I try to keep myself in check, MC," he said quietly in your ear. "Especially here at RAD. But there are times when I can't hold back. When I need you more than I need anything else in the three worlds. Would you deny me?"

His voice had lowered again, his desire causing it to become almost heavy.

You considered it. You knew that if you said no right now, Lucifer would let you go. That he would reign himself in, watch you leave the room and get to class, late though you may be.

You might have done that. But the truth was that Lucifer was just as much at fault as you were. And he knew it, too. He knew exactly what to do to make you crazy.

"As long as we're clear about whose fault this really is," you said.

Lucifer kissed the back of your neck. "You're right. I take full responsibility."

You were about to ask for that in writing when Lucifer's creeping hand finally found its way between your legs. You gasped at the feel of him, a gently teasing touch that made you want him even more.

"All I want is to make you feel good," Lucifer said, his voice still in that low register. The way he had you pressed against him allowed you to feel the vibration in his chest. "I don't believe that is too much to ask for."

You couldn't respond with anything other than a moan because Lucifer's fingers were moving more vigorously now, steadily increasing their speed and pressure. You pushed back into him because you weren't sure you could remain standing. Your hands clutched at his arms where they wrapped around you so securely.

"Ah," you gasped out. "L-Lucifer…"

"Come for me, MC," Lucifer said. It was practically a growl, one that you could feel in your own chest.

You let out a strangled sound, trying to keep yourself quiet here in the darkened student council room, as you came in Lucifer's arms. He held you tightly, keeping you on your feet, his lips on your neck as you squeezed your fingers into his arms.

It took you a moment to catch your breath and steady yourself. You leaned on Lucifer as you did so, heart fluttering as you relished the gentle kisses he left on your skin. When he finally pulled his hand out of your uniform, you twisted around in his arms again. You made him suck in a breath by putting your hand on his obvious erection.

You smiled up at him in the dimness of the room. "Your turn."

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me smut #om smut #obey me kinktober #obey me lucifer smut #om lucifer smut #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer x reader #om lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader smut #misc kinktober 2023 #misc naughty times #misc writes

[dairy-farmer]

Is me~ back to haunt you Ask Box o/ because I just had A Thought(tm)

What if~? The OPPOSITE of my Magic Sex Toy idea? Uno Reverse?

But how would that even work? You say. Tim would very obviously notice!

Oh ho ho~ ye of little Faith! *slaps my "join the Church of Civilian Tim" poster I obviously made myself* CONSIDER! Not a cape! Semi-stable schedules!

We open our scene with stalking. As ya do. Tim would prefer you call it "bird watching" or "observing the night life" but... let's be real here. Stalking. He's getting them NICE Premium Pics for his Definitely-Not-A-Stalker-Shrine. There's a newbie on the scene. A gaudy robe wearing mofo.

3 guess what HIS shtick is. First two don't count.

But! Thing is? Tim is no long a wee baby faced pre-teen. He is a Man(tm). Legally, twice over. And well... you find a LOT if Neat Late Night Shops running after the bats. He may have been persuaded by CERTAIN libidos that maybe he should check them out. Who can say? You can't prove ANYTHING. These bags are groceries and no you can't check..

Where was he? Ah, right, Pics of the Nightwing booty. *click*

Tim forgets Rule Number 1.5: ALWAYS keep an eye on what the villian is doing.

By the way... what that bright light? Oh, just a SPELL BOLT. Fuckin DODGE, MAN!

He fails to dodge.

🥺 H-His camera... Night-booty... Also why does he feel? Tingly? He doesn't stick around to figure it out. Grabs his TRAGICLY dead camera and bolts. Not getting caught at the scene of the stalking TODAY, no sir! Batmans definitely gonna check the area and he SHANT be there! Early night it is!

He gets back to his apartment. Still feels tingly... but less? Maybe those charms he looked up how to make protected him after all. Still, shouldn't push his luck, you know? He settles in for the night. Gets a warm shower.

Comes out and eyes the bags he dropped by the bed... and... well...

He DID wrap up early~ Maybe treat for Timmy time. He digs them out.

Weird.

They? We're already pretty life like (it's why he bought them) but... when he TOUCHES one? He swears it gets MORE life like? He really should look this up or something... suspect toys in Gotham and all... but on the other hand? Horny. And the boxes WERE closed. It's fiiiiine.

But which one? It's kinda been a while. And he doesn't want to be sore tomorrow. This one!

So Tim lays back. Let's himself enjoy working himself open. Then works the fake(?) Cock inside himself. And oh~ it's WARM. Twitchs. He let's himself enjoy a slow, lazy session. Get really sloppy and relaxed before finally finding juuust the right angle aaaand~

Across the city, the current Robin, Damian Wayne, is shaking APPART on a roof top. Sweat pouring down his temple, thighs trembling as he tries ro stop himself from rutting up into empty air. It won't help. Won't make the damnable TEASING go any faster. Wet and tight and PERFECT around him.

Came out of NOWHERE. One second he was patrolling, the next barely catching himself from falling. Stumbling into an alchove on some god forsaken roof. Hands fumbling to turn off his comms. Absolutely not. They could NOT hear him like this.

Panting into hands pressed tight over his own mouth to stiffle the sound he wants to make. Beg and demand that magnificent heat go FASTER. Plunge him DEEPER. But he CANT. Because there's no one there. Just him and the slowly increasing pressure in his balls, begging for relief.

Then, like prayers answered, it DOES. He could WEEP. Can't stop the aborted jerks of his hips as he chases his relief. Soon is trembling like the virgin he ISNT anymore as he spills into... into SOMEONE.

They take it so well. So perfectly.

He's RUINED. His hand will never be enough after this. And Tim has no idea.

Sure, he's not stupid. He didn't buy toys the fake cum. (So to be safe plan B it is) But? In the cold like of day? Prooooobably magic sex toys. Eh. It's Gotham. Not the weirdest thing to happen. Tim's keeping them.

And using them.

Thus begins the "phantom lover" incident, as Bruce will insist on calling it. Because "we were haunted by random fuckings" sounds... unprofessional. And he's a Dramatic Bitch at heart.

Damian, obviously, told NO ONE. Patrol? Utterly normal. Mind you business. But Bruce? Uncomfortable conversations for EVERYBODY~☆

See, Tim has a long day. His new camera isn't gonna be in for a WEEK. There is no point in going out. So his evening stretchs long and empty before him. Which... SPEAKING of things both long and things empty... >.>

He remembers. There was an absolute UNIT that he bought. It also has that base... which mean he could put it on the sex pillow. Try riding it... oh he's GOTTA, now.

Lucky for Bruce, he's not even in the cave when it hits. Unluckily, it is a cock teasing hell. Nothing to hold. No body to press close. No skin to run his hands across or ears to whisper filthy praise. So TIGHT. Fluttering and fighting to take him. Sinking little by little. Can't even HEAR him praising them. He can't even distract them, rub their clit and sooth them as muscles relax.

Can't hold them by the hips and work them up and down. They way he knows will work best. At angles that will make them SOB. Just nothing, nothing, nothing. Trembling and eager around him but so SLOW. Pausing again and again to adjust. Can't thrust in, can't pull out, only TAKE it. Let himself be teased.

But OH. When they finally, FINALLY get a rythme? He knows they can hear a word he says. Not yet. But the FILTH he growls. The audacity of what they're doing. He's GOING to find them. Going to pin them done and-

Tim spend the next day sore, but happy. Definitely not an "every day" sort of toy, but holy shit the orgasm. He hasn't slept this well in a WHILE. Though... when he wakes up? The Bats are acting weird. Violent, hyper-focused, seemly shaking down leads with a single minded enthusiasm. Weird.

Speaking OFF. Now he's wondering... does the possibly fake cum... TASTE like real cum?

One way to find out.

And... look. Dick may have been warned, but it's one thing to hypothetically get your bits milked dry and another to be doubled over seeing the face of god. He would gladly kill a man for the ability to grab hold of whoever is doing this and ram home. The mouth on him is a thing of wonder and it keeps TEASING the tip. They keep running soft, pampered, little hands up and down his length. God he wants them to feel him in their GUT. Fuck their face and their ass and any OTHER holes they have til everything is sloppy and wet and-

Yep! From the tast flooding Tim's mouth, that's real cum. Good his he got his shot. But it begs the question... whoms't exactly is he fucking? Tim's not sure he's comfortable with random hook ups. What if, Gods forbid, it linked him to the JOKER or something!? He'd have to blow up the city and everyone in it.

He considers this as he resumes his sta- he means, BIRD watching. Newly be-camera-d. Weirdly enough, now Nightwing is acting off too. What is going ON? Also... he could of SWORN he saw the Red Hood a second ago. Did he leave? Aaw D:>

.....what's that sound?

*boss music starts playing* That would be the Red Hood. Owner of the mythical Common Sense gene. HE immediately phoned a friend! And by THAT we mean he beamed up to The Watchtower to get poked at by magic users until he had a scanner.

Beep beep, mother fucker. You have explaining to do.

OR, counter argument.... Tim makes a run for it. Doesn't GET far. But he Sure Did Try! Jason is unamused. Consent is sexy, kids. And he has the gun to explain that. But! TIM has the panic babbling to explain his horny stupidity and innocence.

Fair enough. He's confiscating them though. If you get horny, just fucking ask.

Wait.... really? Does Jason really mean that?

And... two things. Cute Horny Idiot knows his identity. And.... he never said HE wasn't also apparently a horny idiot. Sure, why the fuck not.

He confiscate the magic contraband... then bends that twink in HALF. Comms off, back into it. Tim can barely breathe, pressed down so tightly to the bed as his guts get re-arranged, callused hands holding his legs spread, his childhood hero rumbling FILTH into his ear as hips snap against his, again and again and AGAIN. The world is hot and fuzzy around the edges and... AND-!

Jason's pretty damn smug that HES not only the one who found mystery twink, but them fucked him incoherent. He seriously considers just... not saying anything. Whoops! Nothing to find here folks. To bad the Watchtower is a fuckin snitch.

So obviously Bruce finds out. And wants to "talk to him". Which inevitably ends with Tim, pressed close to his front, held still as he "fucks him properly". Which as far a Tim is concerned is a god damned excuse to EMPALE him on his monster of a cock. Work it deeper and deeper, all while holding him like a lover, as he absolutely DESTROYS Tim's poor puss. Makes him lose count of how many times he's gotten off. Until everything is too bright and hyper sensitive. Til it's nearly hurting but not quite there and all Tim can think about, as he whimpers and drools, is SLEEP.

Oh... and THEN he wants to talk about how Tim knows their secret identies. Ask him in the morning or Tim WILL cry at you.

He wakes up in Wayne Manor. He did not go to sleep in Wayne Manor. He can't move his lower body with out pain. Bruce is clearly pretending he planned that. Liar.

Then? Karma. His horny chickens come home to roost. Has Bruce introduced you to his sons? This is Dick and Damian. They remember you. And would like a "word".

(The word is sex and they would like it as soon as possible)

👀👀👀!!!!!!!!!!!! a reverse magic sex toy!!!!!!!!!!!!! where tim tortures the other bats by fucking his little pussy with their cocks while they're forced to just suffer and endure it until he's finished. more than once they almost scream from frustration because tim finishes before they do and he pulls them out of his warm, slick little hole. 👀👀👀👀

#answered asks #asks #anonymous #brutim #dicktim #damitim #jaytim

[chaoswarfare]

Over This Whole ‘School’ Thing

Dick leans on the railing of the school building's roof as he watches the building the deal’s about to go down in. It’s an abnormally quiet night, which is great, since it’s the first night he’s getting to take Danny out on patrol with him since he joined the bat clan.

It was pretty obvious that Danny had suspected them of being the bat clan the moment Masters dropped him on their porch, and finally getting confirmation that he was in the know and actually wanted to help was probably the best thing of Dick’s year.

Now, waiting on the Joker’s goons to show up for a deal, he’s glad he’s getting the chance to hang out with his newest brother(excepting Oracle on the comms, of course.). It was almost relaxing just sitting together on a quiet stakeout, and listening to the noises of Gotham and the occasional siren wailing in the distance.

“You know, I never actually liked school.”

Dick jumps when Danny finally starts a conversation. He’s been very quiet the entire time and it was almost startling how quickly he moved from dead silence to noise. It was almost a surprise that he decided to start a conversation at all, given how quiet he’d been since coming to the manor. Alfred is probably the only one he talks with regularly, now that he thinks about it.

“How so?” Dick asks hesitantly. God knows that he had a pretty rough time in school too, so he may not be the best person to talk with about the subject. “I thought Masters said your schooling was just fine? Your records didn’t say anything either.” Dick trails off a bit when Danny flinches at the mention of Masters. It’s not the first time he’s acted hesitant about the man, but nobody has been able to figure out the mystery or get any information about him yet.

“I wasn’t exactly popular, you know? Lotta bullies in small town schools, and my life outside school kinda kept bleeding over into class time. Sucked hardcore.”

That was new. Danny hasn’t really talked about his school experience before now, but it could be where they are at the moment prompting this, Dick thinks as he gazes out over the run-down neighborhood they’re watching.

“I wasn’t exactly ‘mister popular’ back then, myself.” He starts warily, smothering his words in fake cheer. “High society kids don’t take well to ‘circus freaks’ stealing their opportunities and invading their school. Couldn’t do much about it either because I didn’t want to tell Bruce I was struggling.” Dick drops a bit of the over-the-top peppy mask as he thinks about it.

“So what did you do about it?” Danny leans over, peering at the older vigilante as he waits for an answer.

“Got tired of it and beat them up after a couple months. They gossiped about it for months and refused to talk to me for a while. It was pretty sweet, actually.” He sighs in contentment at the memory. “Bruce and Alfred were pretty disappointed in me though. Practically grounded me for weeks.”

Dick preened as Danny let out a chuckle.

“Man, I wished my parents cared that much about my education. ‘A Fenton always gets A’s. Or in your Dad’s case B-‘s.’ was something Mom always said.” Danny seems to droop as he thinks of his parents. It’s obvious something happened there, but he’d usually shut down immediately if anyone brought them up.

“On top of the ‘out of school’ activities taking over my life, this dickhead named Dash made it his personal mission to ruin my day every time we interacted.” Dick busts out laughing as Danny considers what he said, before freezing and slapping his hands over his face. “Ancients, I didn't even think of that- sorry Dick. He was definitely an asshat though. Real piece of work, that one!” Danny chirped mock-cheerfully. “Did you know that if you’re really flexible you can fit in a half size locker?”

Dick freezes at the sudden question. “Uh… No?” He replies warily. The idea of someone being inside a locker that small physically pained him, and he really didn’t want to think about why Danny would know that.

Why anyone would shove his little brother into a locker.

He pushed the fear and guilt boiling in his gut down and turned to Danny with a smile. “How would you feel about online classes?”

Danny whips his head around to stare at Dick like he grew a second head. “Online?” He asks tentatively, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

“Online.” Dick agrees quietly.

Danny stares out over the dreary scenery and the sun just starting to shine light over the edge of the horizon. ‘The only time you can see it through the smog’ Dick muses as Danny thinks about his offer.

“I think I would like online school. It might help.” Danny admits in a quiet voice, hands gripping the railing almost painfully tight(For a second Dick thought he saw the metal give a big, but that must have been a trick of the light. Danny’s blood tests didn’t have the meta gene.). “And thank you… For offering to do that for me I mean.” Danny mumbles.

“Of course! What are older siblings for!” Dick beams at him, only faltering a little at the well concealed hurt in Danny’s face. It was pretty obvious that he was just about to shut down the conversation completely, when the batcom went off. Perfect timing.

Dick waves the com in Danny’s direction. “Looks like our clown friend got picked up across town on his way here.” Danny glances up in confusion as Dick hops off the railing he had been sitting on. “You want to race back?”

Danny visibly perked up as he hopped over the railing and pulled his grapple out of his belt pocket. He smirked Devilishly and took off before Dick could even hop over the railing.

“Get back here! I never said start!” Dick yelled out after Danny as they sped across the rooftop and swung between buildings chasing each other back to the cave.

Back home.

#danny fenton #richard grayson #dc x dp #crossover #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #writing #batpham #mentioned joker #mentioned oracle #past traumatic school experiences #just a bonding moment #ficlet #not a whole thing #i’m not gonna lie it’s pretty sad #but i tried my best okay 🥲 #i’m not a great writer #and i’m only putting it out here because i’ve been vanished for a while #been a bit sick and ngl completely forgot tumblr #sorry #past trauma #online schooling(discussed) #dick doesn’t know danny is phantom #past bullying #an angsty idea in an awkward number of chapters

[crusty-chronicles]

Is the airhead S/O headcanons over?, I wanna request a Itachi Uchiha with airhead S/O

It's not over necessarily. I just won't be focusing on it as much. But if you guys have any Airheaded requests, more often than not I'm gonna do them.

BONUS AIRHEADED S/O HEADCANNONS: Itachi (Naruto)

He's honestly indifferent towards you.

Doesn't really mind your presence, doesn't really like you either

You are a member of the Akatsuki, after all. He has no reason to get along with you past whatever mission you complete.

That doesn't mean he won't notice you from the corner of his eye.

Irritating Deidara with Tobi during meetings. 

Fumbling your own missions by losing the Intel you managed to get.

Openly spacing out when Pein is giving instructions

But again, you're not his concern. So he leaves you be.

Until he has the unfortunate luck of being paired with you. Kisame temporarily being out of commission.

His indifference slowly shifts into annoyance.

Please stop wondering off because you saw something shiny.

No, he doesn't want to play ‘guess which one is the real me’ with your Shadow Clones.

Wha-where did you get that raccoon????

No you can't keep it as a pet.

Honestly the fact that he has the patience to put up with you is a miracle.

It makes sense why you and Tobi get along so well. (Although he knows the latter is just a front for what truly lies underneath)

When you finally, finally start taking the mission seriously, he's decently surprised.

He likes to avoid fighting if he can, but there was simply no way out of it this time.

He was about to put the enemy under a genjutsu before you stepped forward.

“Cover your ears.” You instructed.

He did as you asked, curious about what you were about to do.

He could feel your chakra build up before you released it in a screech. The frequency making your enemy collapse to the ground in pain.

But there was something more there that he could sense.

A murky chakra making its way to the surface. One that was not yours.

And if it was what he thought it was, then your allegiance with the Akatsuki made a whole lot more sense.

He didn't question you on the way back.

Didn't try to push for information after the mission was complete

But he found his annoyance shifting into something else. Something more sympathetic.

You kept getting paired together and the process would repeat itself.

You'd act like a fool, then you'd defeat who you needed without lifting a finger.

And then, that murky presence would make itself known before disappearing again.

He found himself making small talk with you one day when you'd insisted on stopping to eat 

Saying your jutsu wouldn't work on an empty stomach.

Something he wouldn't admit had a smile tugging on his lips.

“Your technique, who taught it to you?” He asked.

“That? I kinda taught myself. I thought it'd be cool. Plus it does a lot of damage to a lot of enemies.” your answer was not what Itachi was expecting. A reason so simplistic it had to be fake. Perhaps your whole persona had been fake.

“You taught yourself because you thought it was cool?”

“Yeah. Don't you steal techniques you think are cool with your Sharingan ?”

He wanted to correct you. To say he did much more than that with his eyes. But he had a feeling you wouldn't understand it anyway.

He finds out the person you are isn't a facade like Tobi’s on the way back from an intel expedition.

You were a good ways away from the base when you decided to speak.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

The lack of mirth from your voice caught his attention quickly. With a small nod of encouragement, you started spilling.

"I've got one of the tailed beasts inside me. I think that's why they still keep me around.”

And that was exactly what he suspected.

You were strong on your own, but with a tailed beast inside you, you were dangerous. Or useful in the Akatsuki’s eyes.

“It's probably easier knowing where one of them is instead of hunting it down.” then you'd looked up at him with a small smile. One that although looked pained, also held content.

“I don't mind. It's not like I really had a purpose before this.”

Because people had never really been kind to jinchuriki. 

Always ostracizing them from society. Always being cruel. Always treating them like monsters.

He doesn't know why it's him you confide in. Why you feel comfortable telling someone who's a criminal among other criminals.

But you do 

And it makes him finally soften up to you.

Thinking that maybe in another life, you could have lived happily. Without feeling the worst the world has to offer.

He starts to enjoy your presence

Something about it is pure.

Naive in the way of someone who doesn't understand the cruelty they've been subjected to.

He may or may not send a crow out to watch you. Who's to say 🤔 

He just doesn't want you to get in any more trouble than you have to.

He doesn't mind it anymore when you can't stay still for more than five seconds.

Finding you when you've gone to the wrong place you were supposed to meet up with.

Correcting your mistakes in a way that's almost cooing in private.

And maybe, just maybe, he'll confide in you about Sasuke.

He knows you've committed no real crime other than being born to be here.

And for that reason, he trusts you.

You're not like them. And if you were a little bit smarter, you'd be able to see that for yourself.

Itachi doesn't believe he deserves happiness after what he's done. So no matter how fond of you he's become, he won't do anything about it.

Your presence is enough. He won't taint it by dragging you into his own affairs. 

Jealous? You're not together, so he doesn't see the need to be possessive. He can't even see properly

But if Hidan even dares put a hand on you, he better pray his God can save him. 

There are sweet things he'll call you in private though. Names of endearment when you've made a mistake, but nothing that completely gives away his soft spot for you.

Little siren being one due to your technique.

He hopes that you'll find a way out of the Akatsuki eventually.

 Before Madara can complete his plan and you've outlived your usefulness.

What happens after he and Sasuke fight? Not telling.

Nuh uh. Doesn't exist. Fluff only here 👁️👁️🫵

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

MASTERLIST

An: Sorry this took so long. If I'm being honest I've never really sat down and watched Shippuden from beginning to end, so most of what I know about Itachi is from the original series and snippets of Shippuden. Had to do me a little reading for this one.

#itachi x reader #itachi x y/n #itachi uchiha #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto shippuden #x reader #x y/n #airhead s/o #stronk s/o

[ushys]

Hiiiii!✨️

Could I request a Floyd with a S/o who's one of their og fans? Like- the reader is such a big fan that they'll do covers of older brozone songs and some of Floyd's newer work at their own concerts sometimes.

The reader is singing their heart out and Floyd is in the crowd like "Wait a minute- I RECOGNIZE THAT SONG-" and after the show he starts fangirling with his s/o bc they actually like his music.

(Bonus points if he gives them a lil smooch at the end-)

TYSM!✨️

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐍 𝐆𝐍! 𝐒/𝐎

AN: OMLL THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA 😭💕 this is a big bonus for me since i am a floyd (and branch) stan myself so this is a win win

content: fluff, floyd being a cutie, gn! reader (they/them pronouns used), singer! reader, head cannons with a little one shot at the end, not proof read so sorry for any mistakes (might recheck later!

- you considered yourself to be a die hard fan of brozone like if anyone were to ask you anything about any member, you could have an answer in a blink of an eye

- you were the so proclaimed "#1 floyd stan" however, having tons of merch and knowing interesting facts about him

- i mean, how could you not stand him? he was the cutest member in your eyes

- "oh yeah i'm def going to get with floyd, he's literally the same age as me hello? he wants me so bad." - you | "[Y/N], you're delusional. be for real." - your friend

- whenever you had money saved up, you would always use it to go to their concerts

- yeah people called you irresponsible with your money but who cares? all you needed was to see them again!

- floyd and the rest of the group basically inspired you to start singing as well!

- you never admitted it, but your music was heavily inspired by brozone so that’s kinda how it got the attention of your favorite member!

- being a star wasn’t easy, but it was definitely worth it seeing people’s faces light up every time you would sing or just having fans who loved you in general

- one of those fans being floyd (👀)

- that’s basically how you guys met

- he got special permission to go back stage and you almost fainted seeing him this close to you and ACTUALLY talking to YOU!

- a few months after that, you guys started dating and you couldn’t be any happier (beat that, *friend*)

- he was literally the best boyfriend ever

- he always has a gift ready for you and treats you so preciously

- goes all out on special occasions like your birthday, anniversary, etc

- he found your whole floyd collection of merch, cds, posters in your room and he likes to bring it up any chance he gets

- “remember that collection i foun-” “anyways.”

- he was always your #1 supporter and always at your concerts

- once, you decided to do a little something special at your concert

You just finished your last song and the crowd erupted with cheers and screams. Everyone thought that your show was over when they saw you walk out, waving and blowing kisses towards everyone until someone on the speaker came on. “Give it up one more time for [Y/N]! Don’t leave yet though! They have prepared one last thing for you!”

You suddenly come out with a completely different outfit, and everyone in the crowd started cheering again. Floyd, being one of the people in the front, was simply admiring the beauty in front of him, taking polaroid pictures of you that he would definitely add into your shared scrapbook.

You grabbed the microphone and moved it up so it would be at your mouth level. “I just want to say thank you for all the love and appreciation you guys have given me these past few months. It means to w world to me. Now, I’m going to be dedicating these three songs to the most special person in my life.”

You smile, as you make eye contact with your lover, who wipes a tear away from his eye and gives you a warm smile in return.

The music starts playing and you tap your foot to the beat. Floyd furrowed his eyebrows and nodded his head to the beat, getting a familiar vibe from it. ‘This sounds so familiar, but I can’t put my finger on what it reminds me of’ he thinks to himself.

You then start singing, letting the melody take over and losing yourself in the music. It finally clicked. “Wait! I RECOGNIZE THAT SONG! THEY’RE SINGING MY SONG!” He yells out, “fangirling” by jumping up and down realizing that you covered one of his songs.

When the song ended, the crowd started cheering for more, which you gladly obliged and started singing old brozone songs, to which people were freaking out with excitement. Their favorite artist singing songs from their favorite band? Oh yeah, that’s perfection. You can’t even phantom how much happiness Floyd was filled with.

After the concert, you met up with your boyfriend backstage and he came running to you with his arms wide open, his eyes closed, and with a big smile on his face. “[Y/N]! You did so good out there, my love! I really enjoyed the songs that you chose, it really warmed my heart." He wrapped his arms around you and spun you around. “Thank you, babe! I’m glad you liked it, all I had in my mind during those songs were you.” You say, as you softly put your hands on his face, admiring his features.

He give you a big dorky smile and a big loving kiss on your cheek and then on your lips. “I love you so much, *nickname*”

“And I love you more.”

note: omg guys the floyd brainrot is getting out of control i wanna throw him around like a ping pong ball he’s so cute 😮‍💨 also hopefully you liked this and enjoyed it !!

@USHYS content - Do Not Copy.

#trolls floyd #floyd brozone #trolls3 #trolls band together #i love trolls so much #trolls x reader #floyd x reader #trolls floyd fluff #trolls floyd x reader #trolls #i have a problem #ushys

[melancholicmarionette]

A one shot while I work on updating my other fanfic, because life is full of contradictions and the creative process is strange.

Synopsis: Danny Phantom agrees to one interview, and the trio brainstorms the answer to the inevitable “how did you die?”

—

“Electrocution?”

Danny grimaced, at the ceiling and not at Tucker because he couldn’t be bothered to lift his head. He lay flat on his back in bed, partly imagining his own fake death and partly just listening to his friends’ ideas.

“Too close to the real deal,” he said.

“Point acknowledged,” Tucker said, ‘hmm’ing for a moment, “car accident?”

“…A little boring, yeah?”

“‘A little boring’ he says,” Tucker said, and Danny heard the sound of pencil scribbling. “It’s one of the more reasonable options. Like the number one cause of death.”

“No, that’s heart disease,” Sam said, “and that…honestly kinda anticlimactic.”

“You too, huh?” Tucker said, “not everyone can have a heroic exit.”

“But I could,” Danny said, sitting up, “you don’t think I’m cool enough to have, like, run into a burning building to save people?”

“It’s hard to think of you as cool when you’ve got like six model space shuttles on your dresser—hey!” Tucker rolled on the floor, avoiding the smiley-face shaped stress ball Danny had launched at him. “And hard to see you as heroic when you throw things at me, your best friend.”

Danny rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh.

“…I regret asking people I’ve known since childhood to write my tragic backstory.”

“I want to revisit food poisoning,” Sam interjected, “I think if people learned their hero was ended by unsafe and unregulated manufacturing of—“

“I’m not telling the six o’clock news I shit myself to death so you can bring down Nestle!”

There was a moment of silence before the three dissolved into laughter so violent he felt they may suffocate. Danny mentally added that one to their list, but by the night’s end they hadn’t really gotten any closer.

#danny phantom #sam manson #tucker foley #what is this bullshit #i might be drunk #cannot confirm or deny

[bellewintersroe]

Sebastian Vettel x RBDesignEngineer! Reader

Set in 2013 during the GP, Jennifer is fresh out of uni and has made a name for herself within the F1 world. She joins Redbull-Renault as one of their engineer designers and easily fits into the team, forming friendships easily. Most of all, she captures the attention of three time world champion, Sebastian Vettel.

Part 3 - here’s the LINK to part 2. After Red Bull’s first and second place win in Malaysia, the team enjoy a 3 week break, and partying ensues for the youngsters in the team. Sebastian finds himself steering more and more in Jen’s direction, the two dance a little too close and Luke is pissed. Warning: the bf does get a little physical but nothing in detail so just a tw.

My eyes trailed after Sebastian, swooning uncontrollably for the driver. He was kinda sweaty, his hair was a mess from attempting to rid his helmet hair, and there was just something about that smile that made me want to sigh out loud at his beauty. I was quite literally admiring him, it felt like I had no control, but there was just something so overwhelmingly attractive about him that hurt my soul. When he turned, he caught me looking, so I offered him a friendly smile in response. Shit, that was slightly embarrassing. Sebastian smiled to himself, making his way over as I pushed myself up further on the bench. “Hey you.” He gently spoke, coming to sit besides me. I didn’t doubt for a second that he had seen me staring, now I knew I was burning up hotter than ever.

“Hiya, good practice today.” I commented, glancing down to my knees, sucking my bottom lip in to avoid smiling so much. When it was just Sebastian and I, I felt like a completely different person, I knew it was bad, but something deep inside of me softened in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. The feeling was addictive, the sensation of butterflies filling my stomach filled me with joy- followed by a sickening guilt shortly after. “Thanks. It went good, how has- how has your day been?” He asked as I scanned my eyes over his expression. He just seemed so genuine and pure, I hadn’t felt any man so intrigued with me before.

“Good, thank you. Busy as always, it’s been fun… I- that sounds so nerdy.” I facepalmed, “no, it is fun. This whole thing is fun.” He pointed out as I glanced around. “So crazy that we’re actually doing all of this.” “I know… who would’ve thought? Anyway- we’re going out tonight, are you coming?”

“Yeah sure.” I cringed at how fast I answered, my eagerness sounding a little too obvious.

“Ah, that was easy!” Seb giggled, eyes wide in amusement. “I just haven’t been out in a while.” I was quick to defend. “If only I could ask you on a date that easily.” He nudged into my shoulder as I scoffed out a laugh. “Shut up, Seb. What’s the plan for tonight??” On the inside I was a raging, blushing mess- yes Seb, I do wish it was that easy to say yes to you but- no! No I couldn’t think that way.

I ended up in some random bar, Luke of course following behind me, his grip was tight on my hand as he steered me away from saying a real hello to Mark. I watched the Australian’s eyes narrow towards my boyfriend in distaste. “Hey um… when do you think you’ll be heading home?”

“Well aren’t we going together?” Luke frowned. “Oh… I was going back to Monaco. Not England…” “Oh, I’ll come too.” He shrugged, barely even sparing me a glance as he stared up and down at the woman behind the bar serving drinks. I scoffed, pulling my hand away.

“Don’t you have work?” “Do we have to talk about this now?!” He groaned before he even replied, rolling his eyes and staring back down to me with a defensive look in your eye. “Yes. We do.” He had a funny look in his eye, one that just screamed to me that something was wrong. “What? What’s happened?” I sighed, automatically knowing there had to be something with him- as always.

“I lost my job, I don’t need it anway, I’ll just come to Monaco with you an-“

“What?!” Had I heard that right?! He’d lost his god damn job?! Something inside me raged as I looked back up to him with wide eyes. “You’re not coming to Monaco with me.” I firmed. “Baby, I’ve got nowhere else to go!” “Go to your mums!” I exclaimed, grateful the music was relatively loud in here. My comment didn’t sit right with him, I knew I shouldn’t have said it as soon as the words fell off my lips. Luke hated feeling like a failure in life. He likes to be in Monaco where he could ‘pretend to feel rich’. Jokes on him because when we were in Monaco it was too expensive to even do anything.

“What do you mean? Go back to my mums?” Luke harshly spun to face me directly now, causing me to step back slightly as he attempted to get up in my face. In return I swallowed, cowering my head. The smaller I looked, the less people would notice me, including him. My voice weakened instantly. “Don’t do this again…”

“We’re fucking leaving!” He snarled as I felt tears welling up in my eyes. “Oh- oh my god no you’re not crying.” But I was, and he was laughing now at me. Luke losing his job and deciding he’d follow me to Monaco meant he just wanted to sponge off me. I had no love for this man, just pure guilt that kept us together. The only reason he was here was because I was weak. I’d spent years and years and used my dads will to pay for the apartment in Monaco. He couldn’t come and invade that place.

As quick as Luke’s anger began, he was quick to morph it into a different emotion. Fake humiliation. “I’ve got no fuckin’ life baby…” wait? No real humiliation, he stood up straighter, noticing Sebastian nearby. Luke would catch nobody overhearing him speaking to me like this. The fact I had tears welling in my eyes was a huge give away to everybody that things weren’t ok, and that panicked Luke. Despite Luke’s numerous complaints about me working with Seb, he still tried to impress the man who seemed to give him daggers at any given point.

“Let’s not talk about this- hey mate!” Luke chimed as Sebastian awkwardly allowed him to give him an informal handshake. “Hey, uh- you good?” Sebastian’s eyes were on me, I could tell. Then there was a few, the more I glanced around the more mechanics, engineers, friends m, managers; people were glancing over in all different directions. I can’t believe we’d caused a scene, oh my god. “She’s good.” Luke falsely threw an arm around me as Sebastian attempted to walk around him in an attempt to get closer to me. “I’m asking her, not you.” He defended as I grimaced my teeth harshly together, offering a fake smile and nod. Sebastian getting involved just seemed so brave and I yearned for the care he offered- but, I knew this would and could only end ugly with him getting semi involved.

“I’m taking her home now anyway.” Luke sounded angry once again, his calm mask not lasting so long. Truthfully, he was threatened by Sebastian Vettel, who wouldn’t be. But he knew Seb as doing the decent thing like a decent human being would.

“Hey, you good?” Seb attempted to ask again, the urge to step out and go be with my friend was stronger than the urge to be with my own boyfriend. This time, Luke held his arm out, preventing Seb from getting closer, he even applied some force, nudging him away. That was the exact moment I completely lost it.

“Stop it!” I harshly yanked Luke’s arm back. “Don’t touch him like that, let’s go.” I cursed through now falling tears to my boyfriend who’s jaw was tight and he was shaking his head furiously. Seeing Luke ever lay hands on anybody was unsettling, never mind it being Seb out of all people. That had something inside of me wound up like never before.

When we got outside, he practically dumped me to one side as I sobbed loudly, the complete and utter disgust and humiliation I felt for this man becoming overwhelming. “What the fuck are you crying for?” He walked forwards, speaking harshly in my face as I flinched back, wiping harshly at the wet streams down my face. He’d ruined the night before it had even began. How was that possible? It had to be an all time record for him, and I was so fucking done. This was my life, my new life. I didn’t need this or him ruining it. “I’m the one that lost my fucking job! I don’t have any fucking money!” He threw himself forwards and for a second I thought he was going to hit me. I gasped, jumping out of the way as his fist collided with the metal door behind me with a curse. The bang rattled through my body and I desperately gasped for air, stunned by the aggressive act. All I could feel was my breathe heaving and falling in a petrified manner, I felt frightened to move, horrified that Luke had done something he’d promised to never do again. It made me self aware, I was better than this, that was abuse.

That evening we took our own methods of travel back to the hotel. I’d never had a man cry and sob on their knees for me before until he was begging me not to leave him, it was exhausting and in the end, the argument spun back onto other men including those who I worked with. In return I’d begged him to let me leave him, and despite it being the worst situation in my life, it worked. It worked and by the end of it and almost a grand on flight tickets for him later, he was gone. He was gone and I was alone, single, free- my body still rattled all night with the fear of his aggressiveness. It wasn’t until 5am that I caught a wink of sleep. I was haunted of the idea that he may return, and the calls from a ‘No Caller ID’ continuously buzzed through my phone. In the end, I turned it off, blocking all forms of life from outside the hotel room. Everything and anything could wait until the morning. I hadn’t slept well that night, I had a plane to catch and a cut to cover on my face. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, I didn’t even say my goodbyes to anybody in person, I just threw a text in their direction, claiming I was completely ‘good’ after they’d questioned me. On my ride to the airport however, my phone buzzed, this time with an unknown number. Hey, I hope you’re all good? Would you come talk to me when you’re free?

I almost shit myself at the text, raking my mind for who on earth it could possibly be. Could it be Christian? Ready to fire me? Somebody higher up, a CEO? Hi, sorry, who is this? It’s Sebastian, Hannah gave me your number My heart squeezed tighter and I felt tears well up in my eyes over the guilt I felt for my boyfriend laying hands on him last night. Extreme or not, he saw what happened, he tried to take care of me, ask if I was ok…

Hi, I’m so so sorry about last night, I’m good, I hope you are too? I’m on my way to the airport right now or I would’ve stopped by earlier to speak xx

It’s all good, I just wanted to see if you were okay? Hope you have a safe flight, I’ll see you when we get to China

I let out a sigh, wiping quickly at a fallen tear. “Miss? Miss we are here.” The driver politely spoke, eyeing me up in the rear view mirror. I didn’t even have a chance to reply to Sebastian’s message with all the hustle and bustle. It would be two weeks later when I arrived in China that I realised my mistake.

#Sebastian Vettel #Sebastian Vettel x reader #Sebastian Vettel x you #Sebastian Vettel x OC #Sebastian Vettel fanfiction

[hazbmymhotel]

Heading to the spider’s nest

Chapter 6 is out!!

“It feels good to be doin’ my own business for once, Husker,” Angel said, stretching his arms above his head. It brought attention to a silky blouse he was wearing, paired with a tiny plaid skirt. Angel vowed to find something more matronly on the way home.

“Didn't you do shit for yourself all the time outside of the studio?” Husk asked, stretching his wings back behind him. “As far as deals went, yours was fairly lax.”

“Psh. I'm gonna tell you the scars I got under my fur say otherwise,” Angel rolled his eyes. He turned the corner, heading towards the dingiest part of the city.

“You should show me sometime,” Husk said, his voice low and flirty.

Angel grinned, “shut up, Kitty Cat. I got fuckin’ work to do. I can't be all weak kneed.” Though he was still trembling from the withdrawals, it was an easier shaking to handle than tummy flips.

“Do we have a plan?” Husk asked.

“Mm. Well, I figured I'd just go in and ask,” Angel answered. “I mean, my Father is probably gonna be a real prick, but Arackniss will tell me whatever I want if I ask real nice.”

“And your Mother?”

“Ma will probably tell me somethin’ crazy stupid and hand me the worst mixtape ever made. I'm glad she's moved on from records, though, those are annoying to carry around.”

“Your ‘Ma’ likes music?” Husk asked, a small smile playing on his lips. “Was she big in the jazz scene?”

Angel shrugged a little, “I mean, maybe? She was usually gettin’ pushed around by Dad. He's a real asshole.”

“Am I going to have to watch out for him?” Husk raised his eyebrows. “Am I going to need to be a barrier between you two?”

“Why ya askin’ these kinda questions?” Angel asked, frowning.

“It's not the first time I've gotten married on a whim and met the parents after the fact. It's also not the first time I've had to deal with my spouse’s shitty father.”

Angel paused his step.

“You've been married before?”

Husk stopped a few feet ahead, turning his head back. “Twice…technically three times if you count that ceremony in India.”

“Excuse me?” Angel wheezed. “How come you've never said nothin’?”

“You've never asked.” Husk tapped his foot until Angel started walking again. “It's not common to just discuss topside life unless you're freshly buried.”

“Well, yeah…Yeah, I know that. I'm just…” Angel chewed his lip. “I feel like I shoulda asked that.”

Husk patted his own jacket and pulled out a flask. “What else do you feel like you should ask?” He took a swig.

Angel held his hand out until Husk gave him a sip. “Do you got any kids?”

Husk sighed. “Makes sense that was the next question. Two. One of my girls is in hell as far as I know.”

“Am I gonna meet her after this?” Angel’s heart was slamming in his chest as he handed back the flask.

“She told me not to talk to her after my second marriage. She's made it clear that we're not going to down here.” Husk tilted his head back on his next drink.

Angel asked quickly, “And how'd your first marriage end?”

“Hah.” Husk smirked a little. “Fucked a twink outside of a club in Chicago after I botched a magic show.”

“So she caught ya?”

“No…No, I couldn't keep that a secret.” Husk capped his flask. “I had a tendency to wear my heart on my sleeve…I learned to play my cards close to my chest after that. My second marriage ended after I gave her the clap.”

Angel barked out a laugh then covered his mouth. “Sorry, sorry! I thought it woulda been the gamblin’...I didn't realize you were a whore.”

Husk decidedly reopened his flask.

“The gambling didn't help.” He took a drink. “Sometimes it was the stakes I was bettin’ on that got me into someone's bed. Sometimes I…just couldn't help myself.” Husk wrinkled his nose, “it's no excuse. I don't find myself attracted to a lot of people, but when I do, it can be hard to control the urge.”

“Should I be insulted that you barely looked at me then?” Angel crossed his arms.

“You get insulted if someone misgenders your pig.”

“Fat Nuggets is a prince and should be respected,” Angel pouted.

“Hm.” Husk finally tucked his flask away. “No, I wouldn't be too worried if I were you, Angel. You're interestin’ when you're being honest. Plus you're gorgeous, which is a bonus.”

Angel blushed beneath his fur. He tightened his crossed arms over his chest and stomach, trying to contain the butterflies. “I mean…you're not half bad yourself. Am I gonna have to drag you home from some dame's house occasionally when you get too ‘hot and bothered’ or whatever?”

“Maybe. I don't really discriminate on gender… but I imagine it won't be long before you're missing having a group of men toss you around. Fair trade, right?” Husk tucked his wings closer to himself, knowing his Infidelities had usually been deal breakers.

Angel considered. “Fair. I do like t’have my holes filled.”

“One man’s cock cannot do all that,” Husk said.

“Yeah, but yours has all those…little nubs on it,” Angel found himself breathless again.

Husk cleared his throat a little. “Penile spines…An unfortunate side effect of my cat body. It's been effective at keeping me from fuckin’ anybody.”

“Excuse me?!?! Unfortunate?!” Angel fanned himself with all four arms. “I am goin’ insane at the thought of that thing rubbin’ at my insides. Will you make those cute little sounds you do all the time?” He stumbled a little. “Oh man. Maybe we shouldn't go today, I'm gettin' all weak kneed.”

“I don't make little sounds,” Husk said under his breath with a pouting mrrow. His tail flicked.

“Stop, you're killin' me!” Angel begged. “You're a little guy, and I just can't take it!”

“Could you stop flirting this hard in public?” Husk blushed furiously.

“ME?!” Angel could weep, he was so worked up.

Both of them straightened up, hands going to their holsters when someone burst out of a side door.

“What's all this racket?!” Arackniss yelled, his many eyes searching the scene while he raised two guns. His gazes settled on Angel and he relaxed. “Anthony!” He tucked his guns away. “What're you’s doin’ here, you gigantic cunt?”

Husk bristled, but Angel squealed, running forward and throwing his arms around the other spider.

“I was hopin’ it'd be you, you big fuckin’ knuckle head!” Angel squeezed his brother, having to lean over heavily to do so. The other man hugged Angel firmly, arms overlapping each other on his slim waist.

“Did the cat drag you in? Haha, who's that mook, huh?” Arackniss asked, patting Angel’s back to let him go.

Angel beamed back at Husk. “Oh, Nickie, that's my new husband, Husker.”

Arackniss shoved Angel aside and squared up at Husk, stalking towards him. It wasn't often he was taller than another demon, so it was nice to feel intimidating. “You’s think I'm gonna let my little baby brother frolic around with another goddamn queer ass little bitch with a tight ass and broad shoulders?”

Husk readied his hand on his playing cards.

“‘Course I am!” Arackniss raised his own arms threateningly…and wrapped all six around the man in a firm grip. “Put ‘er there, you’s mangy animal! I'm Nicolas!”

Husk squirmed and mrowled aggressively until he was able to wriggle free. He smoothed his hands over his fur. “Charmed,” he said flatly.

Arackniss laughed and slapped Angel’s back. “You's sure do like pricks!”

“Well I like you, don't I?” Angel slung two arms around his shoulder. “I got a question for ya, bro. You got a minute?”

The shorter spider glanced at the door, then back at Angel. “We're sorta interrogatin–”

The door slammed open again. “Arackniss, what's takin’ you’s? We got fingers to cut.”

Arackniss made an indecisive sound, “mmmnnListen, come on in. We's got some fuckin’ guests, boys!” He grabbed both of their arms, tugging Husk and Angel inside.

Husk crossed his arms, surveying the scene. It was an old warehouse of sorts. There were hooks and chains dangling from the ceiling.

“This'll only take a minute, Anthony,” Arackniss promised, stalking into a back room.

Husk frowned, his eyes dilating in the dimly lit space. Angel’s eyes glowed, which only made Husk feel more on edge in the current situation.

“Lame,” Angel complained. “Guess we better find Ma before Dad shows up.” He started walking away from Arackniss’ position. “I hope her little office is still back this way.”

“Hm.” Husk’s voice was low. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Angel?” He followed him and flattened his ears back to the sounds of muffled screams.

“What? Are you scared, Whiskers?” Angel asked, “didn't you tell me once you know how to interrogate a man?”

“It works a lot better if you butter them up first,” Husk said, glancing back. “Torture just gets them to say whatever you want to hear.”

“I dunno…I like torture. Makes me get wet.” Angel whispered, still feeling tingly from their moment outside.

“Can you stop thinking about sex for one–it makes you wet?” Husk’s feathers fluffed.

“Baby, have you really never watched one of my movies?” Angel asked, surprised. “Probably that's my special demon power. I was just reborn to be a star.”

Husk held his face in his paw and sighed.

“Oh! There it is!” Angel grabbed his hand off his face and pulled him forward. He knocked on a door eagerly. “Ma! You in there?”

“Come in!” A raspy voice called.

Angel opened the door to a plume of incense smoke. Probably. “I'm gonna assume that's incense,” he said out loud as he stepped in.

“I've been expectin’ you’s both,” said a woman settled into a large chair spun of webs. “My Tony, sweet boy, come gives me a big kiss.”

Angel giggled and pranced to her side, letting his mother smooch both of his cheeks. He stood straight and bounced back to Husker, grabbing both of his hands. “Ma, this is my husband, Husker, Husk, this is my Ma, Amy.”

“Amphetamy, please. The Don is lurking,” she warned.

Angel sighed and shut the door behind him. “Figures. I was hopin’ to avoid that big-” he stopped as Amphetamy leveled him a look. “Sorry, Ma. I came to ask Arackniss a question, but he's busy.”

Husk cleared his throat. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Ma’am.

“It’s good to see my boy settling down with a distinguished gentleman,” she said, holding her hands out and gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk.

Husk looked at Angel before they both took a seat. The woman busied herself with lighting a new incense cone and laying out a few saucers. She filled each one with a different substance: wine, whiskey, and cream. She unwrapped a cassette tape and used her spindly fingers to wind the take-up reel. Finally, Amphetamy heaved a boom box onto the table, and placed the tape inside.

Husk found himself staring at the saucer of cream until Angel startled him.

“We're gettin’ a fortune, huh?” Angel asked flatly. “The last one didn't make any damned sense, Ma. It was full of the goddamn Beatles and Rollin’ Stones.”

“And ACDC.” Amphetamy scoffed at him. “Learn some manners, boy. I'm doing a service for you's. If you’d have listened to my last tape, your soul would still never had fallen into a moth’s hands.”

Angel pursed his lips.

“How does this work, Ma’am?”

“I will answer your questions with my favorite medium. Music.” Amphetamy smiled at Husk, decidedly pouring additional cream into a glass, handing it to him as a reward for not being a little shit.

Husk tried not to look too eager.

“Go on, drink, it's not for my work.” Amphetamy urged. “But what is…I want to hear those questions.” She hit the “record” button on the boom box.

Husk sipped his cream, licking his lips to clear it from his fur. His tongue stuck out in a small blep, forgotten there.

Angel leaned on his elbow and watched Husker adoringly. “Well, Ma,” he said, voice wistful, “I broke a contract a couple's nights ago.”

“That isn't a question, child.”

Angel tried not to squirm as he watched Husk take another sip, absently licking the edge of the glass. He was so cute it hurt. “Well I broke my contract on a whim, Ma. And I don't know how I did it.”

Amphetamy looked at him flatly then looked at Husk. “Could one of you’s please articulate this into a question? Anyquestion??”

Husk gave a soft, warm chuckle. “Sorry, ma'am, we both know Angel has trouble with simple instruction.”

“Hey,” Angel pouted.

Husk continued, “How did Angel Dust break his own contract with Valentino?”

“Good,” Amphetamy said as the Boom Box started to whir. “More questions.”

Angel frowned, “you're not gonna answer us.”

“Questions!!” Amphetamy hissed.

“Ffffine. Are you not gonna answer us, Ma? Ow!” Angel jumped as Husk pinched his arm.

“Not those kinds of questions, jackass.” Husk swirled his cup, thinking. “How will our mutual contract affect us?”

“Good. Better. Keep asking as they bubble into your heads,” Amphetamy encouraged.

Angel rubbed his arm, pouting. “Will doing this bite me in the ass?”

“Less vague,” she said, guiding.

“Will promisin’ myself to Husk…I mean…is it a good idea?” Angel asked nervously, turning to watch his mother.

Husk, unbothered, asked, “what do we do about our contract now?”

“Should I try overlordin?”

Amphetamy held up a hand and looked at her boom box.

“Ask…different questions. Take your time.”

Angel groaned and turned to watch Husk again, trying to decide what to ask next.

Husk dipped his tongue into his glass.

Angel’s eyes glistened. “Isn't he the cutest, Ma?”

She sighed. Husk glared at him, but the look softened as his mind worked.

“How will our contract end?” Husk asked somberly.

“Don't ask shit like that!” Angel gasped, horrified, “take it back! Ma, how do I make the contract un-end?”

Husk reached over and held his paw on Angel’s arm. Angel covered it with two of his own hands, squeezing. “How do I even know what to do, Ma? I need advice for once!”

“I'm giving it to you,” Amphetamy promised. “Two more questions.”

“No you ain't!”

“Angel, calm down,” Husk soothed.

“No! All I want is for my fuckin' afterlife to be better than my shitty fuckin’ human life! Is that so much to ask?!”

“One more question.”

Husk set his glass down and stood on his chair to reach. He held Angel’s face in his hands and looked in his eyes. “Calm down…You know I love you, right?”

Amphetamy reached over and turned off the recording. “Such a difficult boy.”

Angel weakly touched Husk's hands on his face, eyes wet. “You love me? You do?”

 

Husk leaned forward, kissing his forehead. “Yes.” He grunted as Angel pulled him off of his chair, holding him tightly.

 

Clearing her throat, Amphetamy held out the cassette. “Listen to the songs. Really listen, Angel.”

 

Angel looked over Husk's shoulder and reached out for the tape. “It's gonna be bad, isn't it?”

 

“I don't know. The music places itself on there,” Amphetamy said, “now, listen.”

 

Angel nodded. Husk hopped down, having to stand on his toes to look over the desk. “Thank you, Ma'am.”

 

“I like this one, Angel, he's the first polite man you've brought home,” Amphetamy said. “Now go on before the Don finds you’s both.”

 

“Yeah, yeah…I know he's gonna be mad I didn't get permission for this,” Angel rolled his eyes. Still, he smiled warmly at her, “I love you, Ma.”

 

She blew him a kiss.

 

Angel and Husk walked through the now quiet warehouse, their feet each padding and clicking on the cement respectfully. When they reached the outside, Angel handed Husk the tape. “Keep it safe for Mommy, would ya?”

 

Husk huffed, but took it anyway, tucking it into his jacket. He paused. He frantically tapped over his jacket and pants. “My cards.”

 

“What?” Angel asked, startled.

 

“My fuckin’ cards are missing!”

 

Angel, alarmed, gave himself a once over. He wheezed. “My knife.”

 

“Not your guns?”

 

“My angelic knife,” Angel’s voice was tight. “Arackniss.”

 

 

Husk bristled, ready to turn heel.

 

“No-!” Angel grabbed his shoulder. “That's the only angelic weapon I had on me.”

 

“I'm not leavin’ my favorite fuckin' deck!” Husk growled. “And we can't let them figure out what that knife does.”

 

Angel grit his teeth. “Shit. Shit, you're right.”

#huskerdust #hazbin hotel #mymart #husker #fanfic #til death do us part

[notiddygxthgf]

𝟎

★ pairings: suguru geto x satoru gojo, satosugu

★ synopsis: Suguru Geto struggles with letting people in after leaving a three-year-long abusive relationship. Enter Satoru Gojo, the boy who doesn't seem to take no for an answer.

★ c.w.: slow burn, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, dub con elements, implied/referenced rape/non-con, mahito is a real abusive asshole, past relationship(s), past abuse, recovery, hurt, comfort, vent fic, based on my shitty ex, my therapist told me it'd be a good idea idk, im a good writer I swear, brought to u by the bch who wrote best friend's brother!choso, sexual tension, new love, fluff, angst, smutt, graphic, psychological trauma, theres a happy ending in here I swear, angst with a happy ending, psychological trauma, PTSD, idiots in love, sexy smut I swear.

★ a/n: NGL I kinda hate how this turned out. but! it had to be done! I had to get it out of the way. the way I think this is gonna work is past flashbacks first, present time next. it's gonna prob alternative between the two for a while. comment your thoughts! let me hear u! feel free to slander mahito... he plays the shitty ex.

★ w.c.; 3.4k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐔 𝐍 𝐅 𝐎 𝐑 𝐓 𝐔 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐄    𝐀 𝐈 𝐋 𝐌 𝐄 𝐍 𝐓

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

PROLOGUE

2019. MONTH UNKNOWN.

I WAS ONLY 12 YEARS OLD the first time I tried to kill myself. In retrospect, I can’t possibly imagine what could have been so important to little me that he firmly believed he would rather die than live without it. I wish I could say that I had a difficult life. That simply was not the case. I grew up with two loving parents and a kind brother, in a small town where every friend I’d ever had was within a mile of me at any given point in time. We weren’t rich, but we most certainly weren’t poor. I had everything a child could ask for and so much more.

Again, I wish that I could say I had a difficult life, but that simply was not the case. 

It’s just that I’ve had these… thoughts for as long as I can remember. An unfortunate ailment, if you will. No matter what I did, there always seemed to be something missing. Something I felt I would spend my whole life searching for – or at least trying to supplement.

At 12 years old, I planned my first attempt.

It didn’t work.

So, now, faced with the unbearable burden of deciding what I was going to do for the rest of my life, I chose to pursue a childhood dream of mine. I wanted to go to school to become a doctor. I didn’t know what kind, per se, but I knew that I wanted to heal. 

Maybe I thought, I don’t know… that if I healed enough people, I may have been rid of the ailment – healed, myself.

So I left my small town, enrolling in an academy 30 minutes away from the house. I got into their Healthcare program. Again, what more could a kid want?

Yet the void inside of me only grew larger, more ravenous. I lost touch with all of my small town friends – one by one. I had no one.

But I was pursuing my passion, right? Why wasn’t it enough?

It was in that godforsaken academy that I met him.  

“Pick a card,” he asked me. His grey eyes were so sharp, even then. “Any card.”

I glanced down at the fanned-out deck in his pale hand, eyes crawling over the many different suits and shapes before eventually settling on an ace. I pulled the card out. 

Ace of spades. I tried to memorize it. I also, coincidentally, tried my best to ignore the incessant thrum of my racing heartbeat against my veins, my arteries, my chest. He was sitting so close to me.

It was just the two of us in the hallway. Just me and him and the infinite space between us, the small gap between my right shoulder and his left. 

I handed it back to him. “What are you doing?” I asked.

He slipped the card back into the deck without looking. He shuffled it once, twice, three times. Made a bridge with his hands and let the cards fall back into place. I watched with a remarkable sense of interest.

“Is this your card?” He tucked a stray blue hair behind his ear, producing a card.

I furrowed my brows, about to say something, when I noticed something off about the card. It was different. Where there once was a large blue spade, there now was a small, torn piece of lined paper taped to the surface. The gray lettering on the handwritten note read,

WILL U GO OUT W/ ME?

My eyes went as wide as saucers. My mouth lolled open, lips shaped around his cursed name, “Mahito, I…” 

I thought of my parents. I thought of my religious father. What would he say? What would he say if he found out his 14-year-old son was a homosexual?

I thought of my parents, and I bit my lip, “I don’t know if I can… I don’t know. What if my dad finds out?”

Mahito tucked the deck of cards neatly into the pocket of his black cargo pants. His hoodie was rolled up to his elbows, revealing intricate stick-and-poke linework over his forearms. He shrugged, humming, “Who says he has to?”

The tardy bell rang. We were late for first period.

My mouth opened by itself again. At fourteen, I wasn’t so sure I was ready to lie to my father about something so serious. Not yet.

Seemingly sensing my hesitance, Mahito laid a hand on my stiff shoulder. “Hey,” he muttered softly. “Think about it. Give me your answer after school, yeah? We’ll meet here at 3:30.”

And then he slipped away with a quiet, ‘See ya’.

Without confirmation.

In his absence, I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat.

2019 February.

Mahito ran away from home two weeks into our relationship. Ran away without so much as a notice or a warning. Ran away and left me there to assume the worst. He didn’t live in the best area. Perhaps he was staying with a friend? If not, was he dead in a ditch somewhere?

There was no way to tell.

He could have at least told me, I had thought. Then again, would I have tried to stop him? Undoubtedly.

They issued a missing persons alert the day after he didn’t show up. I remember seeing the poster all over my social media, all over the streetlights and posts. 

It didn’t seem real. Even as I held the missing poster in my trembling hand, I remember feeling numb. I remember feeling as if this were all some sort of cruel prank, that he would be back just in time for our after-school walk with a smile on his face.

 But there he was, smiling up at me from the page in my hand. 

MISSING PERSON: MAHITO 

Height: 5’8

Weight: 150

Eye color: gray

Hair color: blue

Remarkable features: tattoos on arms

Last seen: February 14th.

I crumpled the piece of paper up, tossing it across my messy bedroom with a sigh. I hadn’t slept last night, and I wouldn’t have slept tonight either.

I sunk into myself, curled into a ball on my twin-sized mattress – the same one I’d had for as long as I could remember – and cried. I was utterly inconsolable. I cried until my voice was hoarse, until there were no more tears left to cry.

Until my phone buzzed.

I assumed it was another homework notification. I didn’t check. What did it matter? In my eyes, my world had stopped spinning. It had stopped the moment he ran away.

But it buzzed again, and again.

It was then that I realized I was getting a call. Begrudgingly, I picked my phone up off of the bed. I turned it over. The screen was lit up with the words ‘NO CALLER ID’. 

I wanted to hang up. Desperately. Wanted to save myself a shred of peace and dignity and move on with my night – in hindsight, I probably should have just hung up when I had the chance. But, no, I felt something in my gut call out to me.

Against my better judgment, I answered, “Hello?”

The line crackled. “Suguru?”

Suguru. 

My heart leapt up into my throat. With wide eyes, I answered again, “Who’s this?”

“Suguru, it’s me, Mahito,” He sighed with relief, like he hadn’t expected me to pick up. Truth be told, I hadn’t expected it either. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call you sooner, my love. I’m calling you from a phone booth right now.”

My love. The nickname sounded like honey coming from his lips, but I knew it was laced with venom. Still, as would seem to be the trend, I was weak for it. 

My eyes began to water again, somehow. “Where are you?”

I knew better than to call him ‘baby’. Not when my father was sleeping in the room next to mine. 

“I can’t tell you that right now,” He answered. Of course, he couldn’t. There always seemed to be something he was hiding from me. I didn’t see it that way back then. “Look, I don’t have much time to talk, I–”

“I’ve been worried sick about you, Mahi,” I spoke again. I felt numb. So numb. “Please, just–”

“I stole ten grand from my mom,” He cut me off. “I’m running away from home. The abuse, it’s just– I can’t. I can’t, anymore.”

His mother was a real piece of shit. I knew that. She never wanted Mahito, not as a single mother. So she tried multiple times to be rid of him – beating him senseless with hangers and wires and even going so far as to attempt to poison him on his birthday. 

Still, ten grand was a lot of money.

Stolen.

“I’m on the run from the cops, I– I think they’re trying to find me,” He panted into the microphone. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? You gotta lie for me.”

I felt sick. Sick to my fucking stomach.

“I’m sorry, I…” I trailed off, holding back vomit. “Hold on.”

I ran to the bathroom and promptly emptied the contents of my stomach into the sink. I had just eaten mac and cheese an hour or so ago, and the vomit was tinted yellow. I could still see a few noodles here and there, only partially digested.

It made me want to hurl again.

“You okay?” he asked me.

“Am I– No, I’m not fucking okay, Mahito! First, you run away without–” I had to swallow bile a second time. I felt it burn as it slid back down my throat. “You could have fucking warned me , or something, and now you’re calling me at eleven at night to tell me you’re fleeing the fucking cops?”

He paused. “I know,” he said. “I know, I’m sorry. You know I love you.”

And immediately, like some sort of magic trick, I felt my exterior soften. I didn’t even care that we were only a few weeks into our relationship. He was my first. It was like he knew the effect he had on me. 

“Suguru,” he said again. “I love you.”

His words were like honey. I took a spoonful.

“I love you, too,” I sighed into the receiver. 

“You’ll keep quiet about this for me, right?”

I was weak for him, as always.

“Okay,” I said.

I found myself sitting at my desk in the middle of the day, struggling to concentrate on the lesson. The classmates at my table – more like a group of desks placed together – were talking about the missing boy.

My missing boy.

They were talking to me, actually, but I had long since tuned them out. It was all a blur for me – a blur of faces and voices and words I didn’t want to hear. 

“He’s a freak,” The boy across from me, Choso Kamo, remarked. “If I were you, I’d break things off before it’s too late.”

Choso’s critical words sent a sharp pang right through my rotten heart. 

“Exactly,” My friend, Shoko, chimed in. She was a pretty thing, about a few inches shorter than me with brown hair up to her chin. She always looked so tired . I wonder if she recognized that I felt the same. “He’s got some serious issues. Guys like that rarely make for healthy relationships.”

Choso leaned in, leaned over the desk to offer more of his thoughts, “You can’t just ignore the fact that more people are catchin’ on, either. What if your dad finds out? You know he thinks that… kind of stuff is wrong.”

Choso was Shoko’s friend. He wasn’t homophobic. A little misguided, but he had the spirit. Hell if he weren’t a raging heterosexual, I might have even gone for him instead. He had that look I liked – sleepy, downturned, dark eyes framed by messy bangs. He never wore colors. He was content to make a statement in black. Black eyeliner, black shirt, black doc martens, black hair done up into two messy pigtails. 

It was his signature look.

Our classmates didn’t take too kindly to ‘emos’ like him, though. He was an outcast. Hell, we all were. That’s why we sat together, after all.

The harsh opinions of my classmates threatened to erode my self assurance. I knew people were talking – people always talked. I knew the hushed whispers of my name as I walked past people and cliques in the mornings on my way to class weren’t a hallucination. 

I knew I had to stand by my boyfriend. I knew I had to stand by Mahito, but the weight of their disapproval put a strain on my shoulders. Does anyone want to hear that their friends don’t approve of their partner?

Admittedly, he wasn’t a very good partner. He had demonstrated that much in the first few weeks of our relationship. I knew he wasn’t good for me, but, fuck, I wanted to try. I wanted to make things work so badly that I ached for it. Everyone else knew he wasn’t good for me, too. 

But, fuck, was I naive to wish I could prove them all wrong?

In my eyes, he was only misunderstood. The ghosting, the red flags, the alarming behavior… I could see past it all because I loved him. My first love. No one understood him the way I did. How could I blame them for their concerns?

It didn’t matter how many voices I had in my ear telling me it was wrong. Soon, he would come home to me, and I would feel his skin against my cheek as I hugged him hello. That’s all that mattered.

How could that be wrong?

“It’s not wrong. How could it be?” I kept my gaze trained on my desk. My vision was blurry, unfocused. My mind felt numb and detached. I muttered. “I love him. He loves me, too. He told me he did.”

He did.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Choso and Shoko exchange a dubious look. 

They didn’t understand him the way I did.

“He told me he loved me,” I repeated the words like a mantra, like a reminder to myself that I was fighting for something. 

That as long as I was loved by him, I would be okay. 

He called again that night. Earlier, this time, at nine o’clock. 

I was in the shower at that time, curled up on the floor, sobbing into my arms. The water streamed past my shoulders, my arms, my nose. I glanced over at the screen through blurry eyes. 

NO CALLER ID.

I closed my eyes. I took a deep breath.

Then, I let the call ring.

Current Day. 

[12:13 PM]

[Automated]: you have 3 new messages. Play back?

[USER] Selected:

[NO] ...

... [View Inbox]

...

[ Last 6 Years ].

[REPLAY>>] Message from 'Blocked Number'.

Transcription:

" Suguru, this is me, Mahito. I don’t know if you can hear me or not– I don’t know if anyone can hear you or not, so please use headphones, or something, I don’t know. I just wanted to call and make sure you’re okay. I’m gonna try and call you later. Right now you seem to not be answering your phone for some reason. Doesn’t matter, though. I’m not in a really good place, right now, I’m… surrounded by a lot of people. So, um.. I just wanted to say that I love you, and I’ll call you a little bit later, okay? Bye– kisses…….”  

[End of Transcription] 

[Automated]: Would you like to play the next message?

[ Yes. ]

“ Suguru, is this– this is me, Mahito. Um.. I just wanted to say that I’m okay. Nothing has happened to me yet. I’m perfectly safe. I’m in a laundromat somewhere. And, uh, I said I love you… I don’t know why you’re not answering my calls… You know that I always try to text you whenever I can– and try to… call you, but… I don’t know, maybe you’re too depressed, or some shit. Maybe you’re mad at me. I understand. I– what I did was wrong, I… What I did was idiotic, and what I did was stupid, and shitty… And I understand if you’re mad at me and you don’t wanna answer my calls. So, yeah, I gues… I’ll try to call you again tomorrow. 

If you’re hearing this voicemail, but you probably won’t, um… I just want you to know that I love you. And I’m trying to do my best just… to see you again. You like pizza, don’t you? How about we do a pizza date sometime, yeah? Somewhere around next week, maybe. Huh? How about that? Sounds cool, right? Yeah, yeah it does. Um, anyway, I… gotta… I gotta go. I have to… do some things. Uh… uh… at least I love you. 

And, I– I might not have brought much with me, but I have the little stuffie that you gave me. It’s in my book bag. Not gonna take it out because people are gonna know what my things look like. I’m always gonna keep these memories close to my heart. I don’t care what anybody says. Even if I go to prison, I’m taking this shit with me. Alright? Um, I guess that’s it. And… last thing? I love you. 

Please, answer me. If you’re calling, that means you actually care, but if you don’t, then… it’s fine. Don’t recall this number. I’m not gonna respond. This is just some random guy’s phone. Okay? Um… I love you, and please stay safe. Please don’t worry, I’m still alive. I miss you. Okay, bye, I love you.”

 [End of Voicemails Received on February 18th, 2019].

[Automated]: Would you like to replay the messages?

[ No. ]

[ Delete ] > [ All messages from {Blocked Number}] 

[Automated]: Are you sure?

[Yes]

[Automated]: Deleting all messages from {Blocked Number}.

THE WIND BLEW IN HEAVY from below, sending a plethora of leaves flying out in all directions. As I knelt down to test the current with my fingers, my boots sank deeper into the muddy riverside.

I sat on the bench in front of the riverbed. Wiping my fingers dry on the fabric of my denim jeans, I took a moment to take in my surroundings. The park was mostly empty, save for a few teenagers

The water always looked pretty this time of year. For a few moments, you stood there drinking in the sight of it.

In the present, I sat alone in front of the serene lake, surrounded by the picturesque beauty of nature. Lush green trees lined the shore, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. The scent of damp earth and the distant call of birds created a peaceful atmosphere, contrasting with the turmoil in my mind.

I watched as groups of carefree teenagers ran around, their laughter and joy a stark contrast to the heavy weight I carried in my heart. A deep sigh escaped my lips as I averted my gaze towards the shimmering water.

I wished for the water to possess the power to cleanse me, to wash away the burdens that weighed on my soul. 

The sound of the water rushing past was almost deafening, drowning out the laughter of the teenagers. It consumed my thoughts, leaving me with an overwhelming feeling of dread and isolation. I yearned for the water to offer solace, as if it held the key to absolution and a fresh start, but it remained an unsettling reminder of my own inner turmoil.

I had a vision every time I came here for some peace of mind. It was the same vision every single time. It plagued me every time I found myself in front of the water. It was an image of me, standing at the water's edge, and then, with a deep sense of despair, throwing myself into it, sinking into the abyss and drowning.

As I sat there, the scenery around me seemed to blur, and the vision of my drowning self played on a loop in my mind, a relentless nightmare that I couldn't escape. The lake, which should have been a source of tranquility, had become a symbol of my pain and a relentless reminder of my inner struggles.

It seemed to call to me. I could almost hear the wind carry my name.

Suguru.

The water always looked pretty this time of year. I sat there watching it for a moment too long, wondering what it would feel like to be enveloped by the cold current, to feel it wash me away. 

And, again, the sound of the current grew louder. Deafening. Consuming me.

a/n: l comment and lmk what u think pookiesss

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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wanna join the taglist?| mlol; chapter index

#my love our love ღ #notiddygxthgf ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ #satoru gojo x suguru getou #satosugu #satosugufluff #getou suguru #suguru getou #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #angst #angst angst angst #fluff #smut I swear #theres like a happy ending #vent fic

[ure-a-sunflower]

Truth, Dare, and Jealousy

Written by ure-a-sunflower

Eddie Munson x reader!all genders (Stranger Things fanfiction)

This is my first time publishing any of my work since I really wanted to gatekeep this stuff to myself. I’ll be honest, I wrote a lot of Eddie fan fics so I’ll see how this one turns out. Please be nice, I beg of you. I just did this for fun back in August of 2022.

CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, some swearing, NO SPOILERS

Word Count: 3k

Eddie knew well that you hardly expressed crushes on real life boys aside from your beloved fictional characters. He was fine with that, honestly, because competition with some actually-not-real man that was good as paper and had as much depth as a kids blow up pool was nothing too personal for him. It was probably the dark brooding charm female authors would win you over with or the romantic promises these guys had that were downright unrealistic.

Regardless of that, you and Eddie connect really well and while he didn’t want to admit it, he was starting to develop feelings for you.

(Rest of the fic is below the cut)

This was kinda bad. You had only joined Hellfire a year ago and you got to Eddie real good. The other boys didn’t see it as much, but the way you both would squeal and jump for joy when you would come up with campaign ideas and talk about the most recent news of D&D… he never thought anyone else was like him. That was probably the first time he actually noticed you way past being a member of his club. Sure, you weren’t the biggest metalhead like the others, but when he saw you singing along to Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden in his van, he thought he was hallucinating.

But he was the group’s dungeon master and you weren’t held on the same freak level as him. You still hung out with your other best friends and your choice of aesthetic only dabbled in a bit of punk when given the chance. He thought you looked gorgeous when you would mix both. And considering how good you both got on already, Eddie was afraid he’d ruin what was between you. He couldn’t bear making it awkward.

At the end of a long week before a big school break, Eddie invited you to his trailer to hang out. The other Hellfire members had plans, which left the both of you alone.

“Truth or dare?” Eddie asked, while offering you another shot of the brandy. You downed it after swiping it from his hands and wiped your lips with your shirt. “Um, truth. Got nothing to hide.”

“Uhhh, alright.” Eddie leaned back to think. What useful information can he get out of you? He practically knew everything about you since you act like an open book around him. “Okay, I got one.”

“Shoot, Munson.” You didn’t like the clever smirk on his face.

“Who do you think is the most attractive member in Hellfire?”

Damn, you didn’t expect him to enter that territory. Eddie only took up your offer for a drinking game because you were getting sick of him being short of a human smoke machine. You weren’t planning to confess your stupid little crush on him that you’ve had for months now. What would he think of you?

“Wow, uh, you really wanna know?” you laughed it off awkwardly. Eddie noticed your uncomfortableness and chuckled. “I mean, you can answer my question or pick a worse dare, honey.”

God, his stupid nicknames. He wasn’t tipsy like you at the moment because unlike you, Eddie wasn’t a lightweight. “Let me hear the punishment then. I’ll consider my options.”

“That’s so against the rules but since you’re my favorite, I’ll tell you… I dare you to run around the trailer park, naked, and singing.”

“Eddie!” you yelled. “Are you trying to have fun or have me admitted to the nearest psychiatric ward?!” Soon, he was rollling on the floor, laughing. You couldn’t even bring yourself to imagine what you’d look like. Sure, you’d do anything for Eddie Munson, but that? You’d have to pass.

“So, ‘most attractive member’ then? Come on, sweets, we don’t have all night.”

“But won’t that sound like I’m attracted to them?”

“I mean, maybe. Be as objective as you want.”

You gulped. You really didn’t want Eddie to assume you had a crush on him but you also didn’t want him to think you had one on another Hellfire member. The least thing you’d want him to do is tease you with someone else. On top of things, inflating his already big sarcastic ego would end you.

“Um… huh, that’s tough…” You put your chin in your finger and thought hard. None of the freshmen were on the table. Jeff is sweet but he wasn’t your type— he was more like a brother to you, anyways. Last person left…

Everyone in Hellfire wasn’t afraid to admit that Gareth was handsome. Sure, he still had the baby cheeks and freckles from middle school, but you think his hair is really cute and fluffy even way back then. You always went out of your way to point that out and he’d blush super hard. He also gives you the best hugs, rivalring Eddie’s. Gareth is sweet and nice to you in and out of school, opposite of Grant and Eddie who are total pranksters. You have a soft spot for the guy. If only you weren’t so close with Eddie, you’d probably be fully head over heels with Gareth already.

You took a deep breath and shook your head in between a chuckle. “I guess I’m gonna go with Gareth.”

Eddie’s heart kinda stopped. Gareth? Gareth Emerson? He was already planning in his head how he would react when you’d say it was him. Ready to thank you and graciously shower you with praises while you roll your eyes and tell him not to take it too personally. That’s kind of why he asked the question, if he was being honest. He wanted to hear it from you.

You always loved teasing and calling Eddie your “pretty boy”, playing with his hair and braiding it whenever you both hung out. Once, you complimented his doe eyes while you were both out and about, and Eddie never forgot that moment since. It was the first time anyone has really noticed his features like that. The first time you met him, you even said his style was cool because he looked like a certified rockstar. But you thought Gareth was the most attractive when you were both alone right now? Seriously?

Eddie figured he’ll need to down a whole bottle and smoke himself to death once you go home. Then he just got more worried.

Why did he react that way?

“Eds, you good?” You waved a hand in front of his face as Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. You waited for his response after he kind of just blanked out.

He regretted asking you for the truth now. Should’ve just gone with like ‘what’s your go-to ice cream flavor’ or ‘who’s your favorite dungeon master and rockstar whose name starts with an E and rhymes with teddy’. Now, he just felt like some pathetic loser pouting because he didn’t like your answer. God, he felt like a stupid middle schooler all over again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” He looked like he snapped out of his trance but his eyes look everywhere but yours. His hands seize the bottle and he downs some. “So, uh, Gareth huh?”

Completely oblivious, you giggle and shove his shoulder. “Don’t tell him I told you that. Besides, I only see him as a close friend.” You better, Eddie thought. You noticed the tension in Eddie’s jaw and put a hand on his thigh to calm him down. It only had the opposite effect. “Hey. Something’s bothering you, I can tell.”

“It’s nothing. Why did you choose Gareth?”

The way he so quickly changed the subject didn’t slip past you. But you figured it wasn’t worth pressing on more. “I mean,” you scratch your neck, “he’s really sweet and it’s no secret that he’s got good genes.”

Eddie’s eyebrows only furrowed. The grin of disbelief on his face looked less amused and more annoyed.

“Really? I mean, am I not sweet? It’s gotta be the hair, isn’t it?”

You tilted your head in confusion.

“Eddie… are you… jealous?”

You thought he was gonna have a whiplash with the way he snapped his head towards you. “What did you just say?” Despite the utter confusion in his face, you knew he heard you. You smirked and continued.

“Are you jealous of me saying Gareth’s attractive?” His poor best friend Gareth, having no idea that Eddie’s currently dunking his head in a barrel of water in his mind. How dare he look attractive to the person he’s had the biggest crush ever on. Now, they’re onto him.

Playing dumb was his only option. “No, I’m not. Why would I be jealous? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m teasing you about this!” Air quotes and all, you saw through his façade. The defenses were raised and you could tell Eddie was lying. His ears were a brighter pink than before and though you were tipsy, you still had a strong intuition that you just made your best friend envious. The alcohol in your system seemed to not only fuel your courage but also your audacity. You leaned in to mess with him further. “I just figured, y’know, since you reacted when I said that.”

“I did not react.” Such a child. You wiggled your eyebrows.

“Sure…” An idea popped in your head. “Then, you wouldn’t mind if I asked Gareth out after break?”

Eddie thought he was going to faint. Or combust. Whichever was faster.

“Are— Are you fucking serious?!” Eddie jumped in his seat, accidentally banging his knees on the table and staring at you like you’ve grown another head. You were laughing at this point, clutching your stomach and throwing your head back. If only Eddie didn’t hear your previous words, he would’ve thought you looked like a pure angel. But he was genuinely shocked.

“Munson, what has gotten into you?! I’m only joking!” Eddie’s been having heart attack after heart attack with each sentence you uttered. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or pissed off at you. “You really don’t like me going out with him, don’t you? Well, I know how much Gareth means to Jeff. Can’t get in the way of the most legendary bromance in Hawkins.”

Eddie slapped a hand over his face and groaned. He opened his mouth to say something when you beat him to it. “Or does it feel incestuous to date someone from Hellfire? I see why you’re so protective of them. I kinda see the boys as like my brothers—“

“Just shut up!” Playing cards, napkins, plastic forks— they scattered from the table to the floor as Eddie frantically attempts to quiet you. You stopped and stared at him. Usually, you would shrink away and tear up when someone raised their voice like that at you, but you knew Eddie would never mean you any harm. But then again, this was a first. And he sounded so serious.

After no one still said a word, you coughed and decided to change the topic. “… A-Alright, um, that’s enough truth or dare for one night.”

When you were about to leave and walk yourself home, because you were too tipsy as hell to even bike, Eddie insisted you stay. You gave up arguing with him when nothing could convince him to leave you there in the streets all by yourself. He couldn’t drive you either because he was slightly high, never wanting to lose his van because of a DUI arrest, and casually admitted that he won’t be able to sleep knowing you weren’t safe.

You were quite basically trapped in his arms as he cuddled you on his couch.

It was a compromising position, really. You never figured Eddie to be the cuddlebear, but the way he clung onto you was like you were going to disappear from his hands. To make yourself comfortable, you cuddled into him, placing your head on his chest, and Eddie’s heart melted at your gesture.

Your head in his chest, his legs over yours— he was going to be so pissed at himself in the morning.

He knew what he was doing but also not. So did you. This was how lovers would hold each other. It just felt right to be in the other’s arms and not care about the world, a crazy and cruel world. Yes, you were both good friends, but this was just you guys testing the waters of your friendship. No romantic shit. It was just two tipsy best friends cuddling closely on the couch, a thriller movie in the background as soft rain pattered outside. Super platonic. Yep.

You were drifting off to sleep time and time again because of how good of a white noise the TV and rain were, and Eddie couldn’t help but notice. However, he had something bothering him that he had to bring up to you before you start dozing off and become knocked off cold. He couldn’t wait until the morning to tell you since he knew well he’d chicken out again. Perhaps he invited you to drink some alcohol so he could finally confess using liquid courage, and in the case if you’d reject him, he’d just blame it on being drunk. Perfect foolproof plan.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered your name by the shell of your ear. You stirred from your sleepiness and turned up to him. “Hey, um… I’m sorry if I, uh, made an outburst earlier.”

It wasn’t easy to decipher what this was all about, especially when you were half-asleep and in the midst of sobering at this point. “For what? About Gareth? Don’t worry, I know we were being stupid.” You still didn’t understand why he made such a fuss, but you were just trying to move on from the situation. Nevermind figuring out his reasons. Your heart was pounding miles a minute. You were holding your crush like you were partners, and you wanted to be out of there and in between his arms more than ever at the same time. It was worth cherishing this position before you two part in the morning and just pretend nothing happened.

Eddie hated that you said his name again. “Yeah… I just…you know… I guess I was jealous.”

You took a pause to digest what he said. “You were? Oh, Eddie, I know I said Gareth but you’re still the pretty boy! I mean, you know I love your hair and your eyes—“

“No, it’s not that I’m jealous of Gareth’s looks.” Eddie took a deep breath. Yours hitched, waiting for his next words. He tried to look into your eyes but you could see them shaking and he kept averting your gaze. “I… well… shit. H-How am I gonna say this….?”

“… Yeah?”

“I-I got… I got jealous… that you like him.”

At this point you were grasping at sticks. What did that even mean? Was he jealous of the attention? Of your feelings? That another guy was held in a position higher than Eddie Munson, Hellfire’s Beloved Leader? It was starting to get annoying.

“Eddie, we’re so close and we’ve been great friends since I’ve known you. Fucking hell, you’re our Dungeon Master. I know you and Gareth are like brothers and I get it if you don’t want anyone dating in the club. You’ve got nothing to worry about just because I think he’s got looks—“

“No,” he shook his head, finally demanding your attention, “like, I like like you. I have feelings for you and I want to be with you. As your… boyfriend.”

You were certainly stunned.

Maybe you just waited and pushed for him to say it, but you still couldn’t believe it. Did Eddie just confess he liked you? First? You wanted to soar and you felt like you could touch stars. Holy shit. You wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Was it the alcohol that made you like this?

“…And I know I sound stupid or selfish but I guess I have to make my moves now since you want to ask Gareth out.”

Your mouth was still gaped wide open as Eddie continued rambling about how much he liked you. “—like we were alone in the drama room one night while cleaning and we danced to that stupid jazzy song you put on like my parents used to when I was a kid and I didn’t know it at that time but I think that’s when I realized I was falling really badly for you—“

You had scooted your way towards him the entire time he was going on and on, fully facing his direction, and took his hands that were wildly gesturing the entire time. “Eddie.”

“—because you’re just so nice and understanding and patient with me a-and— huh?” He was staring at you like a baby deer in headlights as you cupped his cheek. You could feel the warmth as his eyes widened. “I really like you too. I’ve fallen in love with you for months now.”

There was just silence. Silence on your end because you can’t believe you’ve finally said that, and Eddie was shortcircuiting with the words you’ve said to him. He had to repeat them in his head to make sure they really meant what he was thinking they meant. “You… You really—? But Gareth—“

“I only said Gareth because I didn’t know if I should confess I like you. I’ve had a crush on you since sophomore year.”

“You liked me for that long?! Wha— Wait, I, oh gosh so you actually like me?”

“Eddie, I want to be yours. I love you. I really do.”

That was the happiest he’s been in forever. If he had to put it in words, it felt like someone lit a firework and his heart was fizzing around the room.

Pulling you to him, he mumbled a “may I kiss you?” and you nodded eagerly. Eddie placed a hand below your chin and locked his lips with yours passionately, absolutely savoring this moment because he’s been waiting for it for sleepless nights and hopeless daydreams. It was finally happening.

He whispered in between kisses, “I love you so so much” which made you giggle. “I can’t believe I have the best, kindest, and hottest partner in all of the world.” When you rolled your eyes, Eddie shook his head disapprovingly and kissed you once again until you were literally gasping for air and telling him “okay! Okay! I believe you! Gosh, I love you so much, Eddie!”

At the next campaign, it was no doubt a surprise to Hellfire when Eddie suddenly announced you were his partner the moment you walked in the door.

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie fluff #stranger things fanfiction #eddie #hellfire club

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

hi :) binge read your de fic that you have posted on ao3 last night and really enjoyed all of it! excited to see any updates. was wondering if you have any rec for other fic youve read and enjoyed-- i am not god's bravest soldier and do not enjoy trudging through tags and was wondering if you had read anything yourself that you really enjoyed lolol

Hey, thanks so much!!! Sorry it's taken a couple days to answer this, I'm poor as shit and have two jobs now wah... capitilism...

I'm working on the next 46' chapter, It's about 70% complete and I generally let it sit for an evening once it's done then re-read it the next day to catch the vast majority of mistakes (I edit everything myself) so I'd say expect that in the coming days.

I have some thoughts! I... Have never been asked for fic recs before so I'm gonna list a bunch in no particular order that I enjoyed, and reasons why. I will note that I tend to enjoy meaty plot-based works over fluff, so that's what I'll be recommending. Anyway!

Paddling Out (THE REPEATER CORPSE CONUNDRUM) - @transhitman - So this is the first DE fic I read and it set the bar pretty fucking high. YOU'VE GOT: a very cool and insular setting (don't get me wrong I like fics where they travel around Revachol too, but there's something to be said for building a set and living in it for a while) YOU'VE GOT: extremely harrowing tension and pale-fuckery YOU'VE GOT: some genuinely beautiful, heartfelt moments (I don't want to spoil anything but "people don't need your permission to care about you" kinda undid me) YOU'VE ALSO GOT: Amazing art?! Always a bonus, I wish I could draw people lol

Have You Heard The News That You're Dead? - Wizardlover - Time Loop shenanigans hell yeah! Basic premise: Kim is *unable* to save Harry's life after he's shot at the tribunal, each time he dies he Reawakens in Martinaise on the first day and desperately has to try and find a way to either prevent the Tribunal entirely, or survive it. I think the major draw to this one is how well it's characterised and how well that lends to the major source of tension: trying to convince THE WORLD'S BIGGEST SKEPTIC that you *a man he 'has only just met'* is actually stuck in a time loop. Juicy shit.

The Case Of The Man Who Two-Thirds Wasn't There - @glisteningceruleaneyes - We got another case fic here, gang. This is one of those "they travel around Revachol" numbers I previously mentioned. A lot to love about this fic; the minor OCs are all loveable (or at least well-written, looking at you Mr. Bigot-All-Rounder), the elements of writing in the game's style (particularly use of Harry's 'to do' list that you find in the ledger, you don't see that as often!) are all fantastic. Also without spoiling too much I'm a sucker for hurt/ comfort :) I like when bad things happen to our specialist guy :) ALSO! alternating chapters, Kim vs Harry's perspectives contrast REALLY well! Just a super enjoyable read. - On that note I also wanna include a special mention: there's a podfic for this one and since I mentioned my two jobs, I've been listening to audiobooks at work (I'm a cleaner. It's very boring) and that was a fun change of pace!

The Emergent Causeway - hal_incandenza - Now you KNOW this one is good because it's the only *unfinished* fic I'm recommending. Again, We've got art! We've got a brand new (non-Revachol!) setting that still feels excellently Elysium! We got that excellent balance of humour and misery from the get go! EXCELLENT murder mystery so far, I am intrigued AND also there's a fucking puppy. Hell yeah. This one's from Kim's perspective and does a really good job of it, nothing like a man being begrudgingly sent on holiday and being somewhat relieved to have a corpse to deal with.

A Spilled Kaleidoscope - @spilledkaleidoscope - I'm actually recommending a series here. Real definition of "came for the art, stayed for the writing" I mostly have a soft spot because I got to watch a few "haha, what if-?" musing text posts become a series of written chapters and INCREDIBLE DRAWINGS HOLY SHIT. Like, you really just draw hands for fun, huh? This person made a pact with some sort of devil beasts to draw hands very good, at the bare minimum we can read their fiction.

Nothing To Lose But Our Chains - Lepak - I almost forgot this one and I honestly can't believe it because this is one of these ones that you need a cigarette afterwards. Good fucking god. This is probably the best fic I've ever read in terms of not shying away from the heavy themes that make Disco Elysium such a beautiful, moving game. It tackles a racism in many forms, particularly how people like Kim (in working for the RCM) and immigration laws do their part in upholding racist systems, despite the way it hurts him too. Of course, it's also excellently written with tense scenes and some real funny moments. A real good'un here.

The Catacomb Killer - SupposedToBeWriting - Give Harry more memory loss. Make him convinced he killed a kid. Make *Kim* convinced he killed a kid... Then the plot thickens. I won't lie I can't remember fuck all about this one because I was mostly drunk when I read it, but if it was good enough that I kept reading instead of smoking a spliff or something then it must have been excellent... I will re-read it when I have the time, lmao.

MURDER ON THE AIRWAVES - @randomisedmongoose - I'm just a really big fan of murder mysteries and gore. You show me somebody with brain matter pouring from their earholes and I'm like "yum yum, more of that please." I am a sucker for curious methods of murder and this one's good for that. Lots of trekking back and forth like in the game again. More ACAB - always good.

I did not mean to include this many...........................

Oh well. Here's my list, there are plenty of others I've enjoyed but these are just the ones that came to mind! Thanks again for reading my fic! Always makes me happy when people let me know they enjoy my writing :3

#hey if i tagged u in this and u don't want to be tagged then PLEASE lemme know and i'll remove u #likewise i dont know if everyone has tumblr so if u know somebody does ping this post their way and if they wanna be tagged let me know and #i'll do that #fic recs

[marzgurl]

Hi there, @katkit-42 , just saw your tags and thought, actually, that's not a bad thing to elaborate upon.

This is another kinda long post, which I think most people should read, too, but I'll be kind and put the bulk of this behind a cut here. Please do take the time to open it up and read it, though.

The real answer is, this whole experience has been me balancing out being mortified by a lot of the things that have happened to me with the fact that everybody involved in the whole thing has also been a complete and utter moron. Any time I even slightly start to get scared, I have to remind myself (or even have my husband remind me) that these are the absolute stupidest people we're talking about, none of whom are wholly capable of completing something so horrific, no matter how serious about it they might be.

I hadn't said it in the previous longpost, but in 2019, it was very clear that Vic had intended to sue me along with Monica, Jamie, Ron, and Funimation (although that never happened). I had received an E-mail copy of a letter of preservation from Vic's very, very stupid lawyers. I'll go ahead and share that here.

It was moronic for a number of reasons. One, I was told it was sent to two different E-mail addresses I have, one of which never arrived. Two, it's written REALLY badly. Three, it supposedly was also delivered via certified mail. Here's the problem: they mailed it to an address in Inglewood, California.

I have never lived in Inglewood, California.

But I know why they THOUGHT I did. Because in 2018, while walking from where I was living to my car to go to work, I got mugged! I had just recently moved and had been filling out paperwork for new jobs and things, and the bag they took still had my social security card, ID, and even my passport in it, which somebody later used to steal my identity. I remember the cops calling me back in a week or two after my mugging asking me questions because they believed they'd found people associated with who mugged me, and they asked me if I'd ever lived at an Inglewood address, and I told them no, and they were like, "Okay, great, pretty sure we know exactly where they are, thanks." So, I hope the guys who mugged me enjoyed having my identity and receiving a letter in the mail saying they were possibly gonna get sued. Thanks for taking one for me, muggers.

I mention this to say Vic has had me in his sights for a LONG time. A good four and a half years now at this point. Although I'm not the one that had any stories of him assaulting me, I was the one who made sure that people could SEE the stories of other people telling THEIR stories, and he HATES that. Clearly, he hates that a LOT.

Vic has vaguely mentioned me NUMEROUS times on his livestreams, saying, "I'm not gonna name names," but clearly intending everybody to know it's me he's talking about. In 2022, he referenced how I have a donation button on my Twitch channel and in the past have occasionally had drives to help me make ends meet. This is despite the fact that my husband and I were both working full time, but life in Los Angeles is hard. Despite this, Vic has this to say:

"These are people who start crowdfunding campaigns to pay their bills. What does that tell you about them? These are losers, everybody. These are people that are for whatever reason so disgusted with their lives--so unhappy with their lives, and instead of, like, working or going out there and, you know--and building something or creating something, they want to sit at home on their computer and look for ways to trash me an other people they don't like. And then they ask you to give them money to pay their bills. Pathetic. Pathetic. *weird snarl* Anyway--"

I feel like a donation bar isn't a "crowdfunding campaign", but we don't have to nitpick here. Vic has also expressed though private E-mails with various individuals that he believes I used crowdfunding to pay for a "cat funeral", which he also found to be distasteful. So, this was clearly a jab at me, but he got the details of it wrong. In 2019, my 14-year-old cat Siren was very sick. I was trying to get her healthcare and wasn't sure how I was going to pay for it. My friend--NOT ME, SOMEONE ELSE ENTIRELY--asked me if it was okay if THEY set up a GoFundMe to help me find a way to save my cat. THEY created the GoFundMe, and some people donated, and we did all we could to save Siren before it was clear that she was too far gone, and we lost her. We did NOT raise funds to have a funeral for her. Not in the slightest. The fact that this is what Vic is telling people is disgusting, and cruel to the idea of somebody who has ever had to deal with the loss of a beloved family member. On top of this, if you have ever struggled to make ends meet, let's not mince words here--Vic thinks you are "pathetic". He thinks if you don't make money, you just aren't working hard enough (even if it turns out you and your family all work full-time and take side gigs just to cover everything). Of course, he also seemed to believe that I didn't have a job at all (a long-running conspiracy theory among his fans, just because they couldn't figure out who my employer was), when I was providing hard evidence of being actively credited for my work as a subtitle and closed caption editor in the anime industry (the very same anime industry Vic was kicked out of).

But it's weird that he thinks you're a loser if you crowdfund to pay your bills! Is that not precisely how you managed to sue the very women you assaulted, Vic? To this day, the "Vic Kicks Back" GoFundMe is still open, and has raised nearly $300,000 dollars--a significantly higher amount than anything I've ever earned via Twitch donations.

In May of this year (which is exactly when Farah was ramping up her online harassment campaign against me), Vic once again vaguely talked about me, but got all the details wrong yet again. Since I can only embed one video, I'll link to this second clip here, which someone else has uploaded to Twitter.

Everybody knows Vic means me when he says that prior to 2019 I only had about 800 followers and now have more like 18,000, all because I was talking about him. Which he's very much over-inflating. I'd already had several years of a career of being an online content creator. By 2019 I had 16,000 followers. I've had my account for something like 14 years. I'm now over 19,000, pushing 20,000. That growth from 2019 to 2023 seems relatively normal to me. It was a very gradual growth that honestly doesn't look all that much different from the growth I'd had since 2009. Even one glance at Social Blade will confirm this is true.

He also keeps saying we've never met (such as in the video clip linked above). But we have! We very much have! I have video of myself--video from EIGHTEEN YEARS AGO--walking up to Vic with a camcorder and him talking directly to me. Feel free to go and watch it for yourself. You can hear my voice and everything!

AND SO! I say all this to say that I have long been aware of how much Vic Mignogna hates me. Vic Mignogna HATES ME SO. SO. SO. FUCKING. MUCH. He has done everything in his power to belittle and discredit me as somebody so much smaller and weaker and completely different from who I actually am, deliberately lying about facts of my life that I can actively prove false at any given moment with a plethora of receipts.

But you wanna hear the real eye-opening thing? In April of this year, just before Farah started going on the attack, Vic was on his livestream yet again making a very ominous statement. Once again, I link directly to it here since I can't embed it for you.

"I'm already in the middle of looking into some very aggressive retaliation and resources to deal with that."

Now, at the time, we all just thought he meant he was FINALLY gonna pursue a lawsuit against me, which, let's go bro, I'm fuckin' ready to go any time, man. But as it turns out, this sure does line up a whole lot more with the timing of Vic's Red Lobster dinner conversation with Farah about starting a cyber warfare campaign against me, on top of maybe possibly probably murder!?!?!? We know that Farah started her cyber warfare just later that very same month, so that sure sounds like convenient timing to me!

My husband and I had joked for a long, long time, like, "You know, he hates me SO damn much. You think he wants me dead?" And it was always kind of a, "Haha, yeah, we're joking, but what if for real?" And then when Farah started E-mailing me and telling me it was probably very real, I mean... yeah, katkit, that did shake me for a bit. I got the E-mail from Farah while my husband was at work, and it stopped my productivity for the day dead in its tracks. Even though it was clear that they had seriously overlooked really obvious facts (like the fact that I was literally not even going to be in the same state as Anime Expo, the event where Vic wanted me hurt), the fact that he wanted me hurt at all was concerning. Also, it was concerning to me that, if Vic at all stopped being a complete and utter fucking moron and realized I'd VERY PUBLICLY already been announced as a guest at a convention in Texas that very same weekend, it might actually be EASIER for him to have someone come to that event and hurt me, because Vic also still lives in Texas. He himself used to live in Houston, where the event was taking place, and likely still had connections there. Delta H Con is really little, without a lot of security. There was only one possible hotel for me to stay in. I was scheduled for panels and to be at my table all day, every day. Where I was going to be at all times was easily tracked for the entire weekend. To that extent, yes, I was very scared.

In fact, over that first weekend of July, I was very prepared to die.

I started trying to spend more time with my husband, trying to be more conscious of how I spoke or reacted to little things, just in general trying to be nicer and more loving. I started spending more time loving on my two cats who I love very dearly, wondering if I only had a limited time left with them. I started preparing folders of information I wanted to make sure my husband had if for some reason I didn't come back from Houston alive.

In the end, obviously, none of that was necessary. Though I guess I can't say that it was in any way a bad thing to spend more time focusing on and loving my family.

Ultimately, I guess I was saved by the stranger who sent me all those screenshots from Farah's Discord server. Surely, they have no idea what they did. To that person, I thank them. I had no idea it was going to save me, either. Had I not had those screenshots to post online and knock Farah loose from her war path, she might have continued to pursue me until she had something she really could have done to harm me for real.

Now, that's just disrupted that specific plan. Whether Vic will continue to want to pursue my death in some other way, I have no idea. I guess I am a little bit more on guard now than I was before. But also, I know there's only so much I can do. All I can do is just keep going and pretending there isn't this weird dude with a life that he could totally control all on his own and live in peace but instead wants his ability to prey on young women so badly that he would literally kill a woman to be able to continue to get away with doing it.

For right now, though, I'm mostly okay. I'm continuing to do my work, I'm going to see a movie tonight that I had a hand in localizing, and I'm feeling grateful for that success. Thank you for checking in on me. It's very kind of you. I hope you're doing well out there for yourself, too.

#anime #vic mignogna #assault #cheating #cw #death threats #harassment #voice actor #youtube #murder plot #update #updates

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 8! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Mentions of sex. Nudity. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: PG-13 (ish?) (but other parts are very NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 4994

A/N: Our Reader is feeling it, y'all! I am, too! Getting into the right headspace for this part was tricky for whatever reason, and it's a bit long, so thanks for your patience. I wanted to get a bit more backstory in there, so hopefully the flashback scene works well. And a little Young!Elvis doesn't hurt anyone, right? I also couldn't help myself and HAD to include the detail about his stutter because I just keep finding all these deliciously real and human parts of him that make him such a rich, full person/character, so forgive me my indulgence!

To all the babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments mean the absolute WORLD to me. Finding out that some of y'all are liking it enough to be reading it MULTIPLE times blows my freakin' mind. Like whaat?! This story (and EP) has taken over my heart and soul, so for those of you still with me, and to all the newcomers, I'm sending you all the love! And I promise there's more good stuff coming ahead, complete with more smut, angst, and tension.

I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks since now I know how they work lol)! I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

1957

“So, I hear you’re gonna make an honest man out of our Jacky Boy.”

You look up from your seated spot on the cool grass, Elvis’ tall frame lording over you in the dark of this humid midsummer night and you smile.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you blush happily, playing with the small, simple diamond that now adorns the ring finger of your left hand. It’s not much, but it’s yours. You can barely stop staring at it, you are so excited.

Elvis folds himself down next to you on the lawn, his long limbs a little less lanky than they used to be. A couple of years of being well-fed after a lifetime of poverty has done him well. He looks good, albeit tired. Hollywood and fame have certainly made him more beautiful, his resting face now always looking like it’s ready for a close-up, but the lightness that used to surround him is a little heavier, a little darker now, like he has the world resting on his shoulders.

He turns his head to really look at you, taking you in. It’s a look that might’ve made you self-conscious at any other time, but it’s dark and you’re too distracted by your engagement ring to really notice. “You happy, doll?” he asks, but answers it himself, “You look happy.”

You can’t stop smiling. “Yes, I’m most certainly happy,” you reassure him.

“Good,” he nods as if this has satisfied him in some way. Then he leans back, laying down in the grass, and stares up at the stars. That look comes over him again, the heavy one. It worries you a little. He’s been gone so much lately, and things have been moving so quickly for him, you’ve barely had a moment to talk in what feels like forever.

“How ‘bout you, E, are you happy?” you ask quietly, looking down at him.

He is silent at first, and you almost don’t catch the sigh he lets out before speaking, “I ain’t got nothing to be unhappy about, baby. All my dreams are coming true.” He says it almost as though he’s trying to convince himself of it. He doesn’t look at you, instead focusing all his attention on the sky.

“You didn’t really answer the question,” you say gently.

He finally looks over at you, those big blue eyes of his exhausted, rimmed with dark circles. “It’s all been moving so fast, I barely got time to catch my breath. I’m constantly around people, but sometimes I feel so lonely, y/n…and Hollywood ain’t all it’s cracked up to b-be,” he says quickly, but in a whisper, as though he’s terrified to be overheard.

You open your mouth to speak, but he rushes to continue: “And I don’t w-w-wanna seem ungrateful or nothin’ b-b-b-because I-I-I am gettin’ to do what I love to do and I’m supportin’ my family and it makes lots of folks happy, and God’s b-b-blessed me with that…b-b-but so many people hate me, makin’ it their mission to misunderstand me and they don’t even know me.” He takes a deep shuddering breath, frustrated and trying to get the words out.

You know he’s emotional and tired because his stutter keeps getting in his way as he tries to speak. Most people don’t even know he has one because it doesn’t happen when he sings, and he sure as hell doesn’t let it stop him from doing what he wants to do, but you’ve heard it pop up now and again in conversation over the years, usually with nerves or when he’s “excited,” as he calls it. He told you how he thought he’d blown his initial screen test in Hollywood because of it, because he was so nervous that he couldn’t get the words to come out like he needed them to. Luckily, he said the director liked it and even said it made his acting seem more genuine. You find it endearing because it’s a very real part of him and his humanity, which you think is something much needed when the world is striving to make him a commodity. It still makes him a little self-conscious, though, so you don’t rush him or react, you just wait for him to continue.

 “Sometimes I-I feel like I’m b-b-being pulled in a dozen different directions, all at o-once. I-I-I constantly feel like I’m tryin’ to prove myself. Sometimes it just gets to me, is all. So, to answer your question, yes, I am happy, but it sure comes with a price,” he pauses. “I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t’ve unloaded on you like that, today of all days,” he says, eyes now downcast and concerned.

“Don’t you feel sorry. I asked, and I’m glad you answered me truthfully. Seems like you needed to get that off your chest,” you say kindly, with a small smile. You hate to see him so weighed down. But you are pleased and surprised by him being so vulnerable with you. It makes you feel like you’ve got your friend back.

“You won’t go tellin’ no one, will ‘ya? Not even Jack,” he pleads, looking at you wide-eyed.

“Of course not, Elvis. I swear it,” you say seriously. You wouldn’t dream of betraying his trust.

He nods, relieved, and looks back up at the stars.

“I’m real proud of you, E, all of us are. It takes a special person to do what you do with the grace you do it with. God knows I couldn’t do it,” you say, suddenly feeling a little shy.

Elvis looks at you with surprise. “Thanks, y/n, that means a lot comin’ from you,” he says and the way his pretty eyes search your face sends a strange feeling through your body.

You don’t know what to say to that, so silence sits heavy, but not uncomfortably, between you.

Playing with your engagement ring, knees pulled into your chest, you look into the night sky.

“How’d ya know? That Jack’s the one?” he suddenly asks, out of nowhere.

The question both surprises and delights you. “Hmmm, well, let’s see,” you ponder. “He’s there when I need him. He makes me feel special, like the only girl in the world. I know he’ll always take care of me. He is mine and I am his. Sometimes I almost feel like we were made for each other, ya’ know, like we were meant to be,” you rattle off. “That may seem silly and saccharine and hopelessly romantic, but it’s true. So, I suppose that’s how I know I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him,” you say, a giddy excitement running through you.

Elvis is quiet, his face unreadable. You’re not sure why, but you feel like you’ve said something to upset him.

“Why? You got a special girl or three, Mr. Presley?” you ask, in a faux-reporter voice, holding a pretend mic to his mouth to try and lighten the mood.

“Ha!” he scoffs with a laugh and a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, it must be so hard for you, to have thousands of beautiful girls to choose from, all clamoring for a piece of you,” you tease. You know he is dating quite a bit because he brings some of them home, whether from Hollywood or somewhere on the road. He always seems to be falling hard and fast for a new girl, but they never seem to last.

“No, there’s no one special I’m datin’,” he says, sitting up, intently playing with a blade of grass. “I mean, I’m seein’ lots of nice girls, great girls, even. It’s just…none of them’s the one.”

You are a little taken aback by his honest answer. “Well, you can’t force it, E. You’ll know when it’s right,” you say, patting his hand.

Elvis looks down sharply at your hand on his, almost like it’s burned him. “Yeah, I reckon I will,” he says, looking back up at you, his face unreadable once more. He’s gotten too good at that in Hollywood, you think, shutting the vulnerable parts of himself off from an untrustworthy world.

For the second time this night, silence hangs over you. This time it feels charged, but by what you do not know. You can’t figure out what’s going on with him.

“You gettin’ enough sleep, E?” His moodiness has always been worse when he’s tired.

“Oh, you know me, doll. I was barely sleeping before all this and now I sleep even less,” he replies. “There’s too much to do and I got all this-this crazy energy, ya know?” He wiggles his limbs, exaggerating. You can’t help but laugh.

But your laughter dies out quickly. “Seriously, Elvis, promise me you’ll at least try to get some rest while you’re home. It worries me to think you’re running yourself ragged.”

He nods but doesn’t say anything, as if he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t keep. Instead, he abruptly changes the subject.

“C-c-congratulations, y/n. Jack’s a lucky guy and I-I’m glad you’re happy. You—you both—deserve all the happiness,” Elvis says, his gaze kind but guarded. Then, unexpectedly, he leans over and presses his lips softly to your cheek. They are warm and plush against your skin, lingering there for just a moment too long. Your breath catches and you can feel heat blossom through your body and into your cheeks in a way that surprises you.

Then, just like that, he pulls away, getting up and brushing himself off, like nothing happened. He holds his hand out to you to help you up off the ground. “We should get back,” he says.

You blink rapidly, trying to process the last few moments. You are glad the darkness hides the red on your cheeks. Elvis seems unaffected, so you take his hand and let him help you up. You chalk whatever strangeness that has happened up to Elvis being exhausted, pushing whatever silly, fleeting thoughts you have far, far away.

*

The long-buried memory hits you hard as you stand at the door to Elvis’ bedroom, poised to knock. You’ve spent all night in anticipation of this moment, excited and nervous about whatever comes next, but this memory shakes you, knocking something loose in your brain. Something you had forgotten until just now.

You are trying to grasp it, the thing that is niggling at the corners of your mind, but before you can lock on to whatever it is, the door swings open, startling you. You didn’t remember knocking—it’s like Elvis just knew you were there.

And immediately everything else is forgotten because the tantalizing smell of him wafts over you, and your heart starts to pitter patter in your chest because he’s just so beautiful, and the brilliance of his light blue, dark-rimmed eyes nearly knocks you over.

Elvis pulls you in to the room quickly, trying to avoid any possible prying eyes, shutting the door quietly. The light is much dimmer in here and it’s silent, save for the sound of your breathing. He is so, so close, his eyes travelling over your body approvingly. His eyes ignite flames within you wherever they linger.

“I knew you’d be a showstopper in this, baby. And the tan is a nice touch,” he says, smiling coyly, running a finger down your bare arm, sending a shiver down your spine.

Words get lost in your throat because all you know is that you need him. So instead of words, you grasp his face and kiss him as if your life depends on it. You sense his surprise at your boldness in the way he tenses at first, but it takes only a second before his arms wrap around you, and those soft, pliant lips open to yours.

But the butterflies happening in your stomach now are different than the heat you’ve experienced when kissing him before and that surprises you. Scares you, even, because the heat and the sex make a certain kind of sense. It’s biological, you think, natural to be drawn to him. Everyone is drawn to him. What you’ve already shared physically, what he is teaching you about pleasure, is addicting—you want more. Of course, you do. But what’s happening to you now is more than that, as much as you want to push it away and deny it.

You pull back from him slowly, his lips chasing yours with another gentle kiss. Your eyes raise, meeting the endless blue of his, and you are caught there, drowning, as you try to understand the man he is now. You can’t help but think that these are the same eyes that looked upon you on the lawn of Graceland so many years ago. Reconciling that Elvis with this Elvis feels so utterly strange. So much life has happened between then and now, yet under it all, you can still see that sensitive young man, striving and eager for everything life has to offer.

“Well, hello to you, too, honey,” he says softly, searching your face, trying to gauge what is going on with you.

“Hi,” you breathe out, “I missed you.” It just falls out of your mouth, a truth you aren’t sure you should reveal, but it’s too late now. It feels silly—you saw him less than 24 hours ago, but it feels like a lifetime.

This pleases him, his mouth turning up in a small smile. “I missed you, too,” he replies, giving you another soft kiss.

This invokes your own smile, a shy one. Your stomach continues to flutter like a schoolgirl’s.

He pulls you into the room, your hand small in his, the Vegas skyline bright outside the huge windows. To think, just a few nights ago, you stood in this very spot, furious and ripping him a new one for ruining your life. Feels like a million years ago now.

Elvis is barefoot, wearing a set of satiny deep blue pajamas, which somehow, even though they are sleepwear, still flatter him. You suddenly feel quite overdressed. You’re not sure what he has in store for you because his countenance doesn’t quite match the sexual fire from when he dominated you on the couch and sent you to the stars last night, but he is somehow no less intense.

His fingers brush through the pink fringe of your top, feathering over the bare skin of your back as he moves around you to a box on top of the piano. Curious, you move with him, stopping as he lifts out a slip of a nightgown that matches his pajamas exactly. Your eyebrow quirks.

Setting it back down, he glides towards you, wrapping his arms around your back. “Let’s get you more comfortable,” he says, unzipping your top slowly, removing it, throwing it to the side. You shiver under his gaze, exposed in the lacy petal pink bra he bought you. He looks delighted that you are wearing it, though his gaze is still light and controlled, even though he is undressing you.

“Shoes,” he tuts, and you slip out of your heels, kicking them to the side. Your eagerness builds, the fluttering in your stomach wild and catching fire, but you let him guide you, as he seems wont to do.

He reaches around and unzips your skirt, pulling it gently over your hips and it falls in a heap at your feet. He hums and looks over you approvingly in your matching underwear, and the look alone has you weak in the knees. It’s criminal how handsome he is and what it does to you. Based on your previous encounters, you half expect him to take you right there, but he makes no move to do so. Your breath is shallow, your body on alert, waiting on pins and needles.

Next, moves in close, his fingers brushing up your spine. A shudder courses through you. He unhooks your bra, sliding it off you and placing it on top of the piano. You think for sure he will now devour you, but he waits.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Elvis whispers, taking in your figure and you suddenly feel shy under his adoring gaze. You resist the urge to cover yourself, your nipples standing at attention in the cool air. He doesn’t touch you (you desperately want him to), though you can see by the smoldering in his eyes he wants to, too. Instead, he hands you the nightie. “Put it on,” he requests, and while you are confused, you do as he asks. The expensive, silky softness drapes over you, hanging perfectly off your frame.

Nodding as though some requirement that is unknown to you has been fulfilled, he pulls you into him, kissing your forehead. His embrace is warm and comforting against the cold of the air conditioning and you wind your arms around his neck, fingers weaving into his fine hair. While there is heat growing in your belly for him, it is like glowing embers rather than an engulfing flame.

This feels different. And then you realize, it all feels so domestic.

The thought is jarring, yet not unwanted. You had assumed (rightly so) that he wanted you here so you could fuck all night long. But this, this is a decidedly different vibe to your uninterrupted night together. And while you are a bit confused and surprised by it, you are curious.

“Elvis,” you say quietly, without expectation, “what is this?”

A boyish grin spreads across his face, reminding you of the memory that blindsided you before, the one you still need to dissect. “I want all of you, not just a part of you,” he says, nuzzling your nose with his. It sends tingles down your arms. You’re not quite sure exactly what it means, but you get the gist that he wants more than sex from you and that is surprising.

Is it, though?

He pulls you up and onto the huge bed with him. You lean back against the pillows, the ornate headboard, and he turns to you, brushing flyaway hairs off your face. His crystalline eyes have an openness you haven’t seen in a long time, as though all the glitz and glamour of “Elvis” is stripped away and it’s truly just the man here in front of you.

“How was your day?” he asks.

It’s such a simple question, yet the fact that he asks it of you almost has you in tears. Perhaps it’s because until this moment you haven’t realized that it feels like no one has asked you that, or truly cared to, in a very long time. And the fact that it is coming from him, of all people, makes your heart simultaneously break and leap at the same time.

You clear your throat, pushing the emotion away. “I…uh, well, I went to the pool with Sandy. Hence the tan. She happened to be in the room when your gift arrived, though, so that was interesting to try and explain,” you say.

“And what did you tell her?” he asks, resting his head on his hand, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. You are distracted by them and almost forget what he asked.

“Um, I basically told her I couldn’t tell her anything. How could I? I mean, we haven’t really talked about…” you motion between you two, “us, this. I couldn’t very well talk to her about it before I talked to you.”

He smiles that crooked smile of his, the one that melts your heart. “And how did she take that?”

“Oh, she was disappointed but didn’t pry. As soon as she saw the underwear, though, she’s made it her mission to figure out who the mystery man is. She’s been my shadow all night. It’s gonna be hard to keep this from her for very long,” you say dismally.

He laughs. “You can tell her, honey,” he says.

This floors you. “What? But aren’t you afraid…I mean...?” you worry.

Elvis puts his hand on your cheek. “Baby, I wanna keep seein’ you, and I think you wanna keep seein’ me.” The way he says it sends warmth radiating through your chest. But that warmth is quickly chased by cold, pragmatic fear.

He continues, “And I know she’s your best friend and y’need someone y’can talk to. Jerry knows already, anyway. I’ll make sure she knows to be discreet.”

Your mouth opens then closes. To say you are flabbergasted by this response doesn’t quite describe what you are feeling. It’s a mixture of relief, surprise, elation, confusion, and terror, and what seems like a hundred other things, all at once.

If Sandy knows, it makes this all real. Too real. This was only supposed to be a one-time thing. A way to stick it to Jack. A way to take some power back. A way to quell the unbridled sexual tension that had grown between you and Elvis.

But now you feel wildly out of control. Mind-blowing sex with the ethereal man in front of you has morphed so quickly into a passion you didn’t expect that you feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. The more you think about it and the more you remember, no matter how much you are shoving it away, you know that this was never going to be a one-time thing for Elvis. He knew it, too. The fact that you are here right now, like this, is proof. And you are not sure if that makes you elated or angry. Maybe it’s both.

This is too dangerous. Go back to Memphis and forget this ever happened.

Maybe that would have worked two nights ago, but the thought of leaving him now fills you with more despair than the anxiety of staying.

What happens if this all blows up in our faces? Because you think it will. You can feel the pressure building even now, though you aren’t sure to what end.

Elvis seems so utterly calm, so sure. You don’t know if this is because he lives in a world so above everyone that everything seems possible, like a strange naivety, or if he is just an optimist, but either way, you don’t know how to respond. You know you have to say something, though, because of the way he is looking at you, his eyes expectant and watchful.

“How? How are we gonna keep seeing each other, E? I go home tomorrow. And what about Jack?” you say in a whisper, all your emotions caving in on you at once. Tears spring to your eyes, which is not at all what you want or expect, and you are mad at yourself for ruining the mood.

“Hey, hey now, darlin’,” Elvis says with concern, sitting up and taking your face in his hands. “Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry. I got it all figured out. I’ll take care of you, honey,” he reassures you. He kisses your tears as they fall down your cheeks, his lips soft and warm.

Then, unexpectedly, he leans over and presses his lips softly to your cheek. They are warm and plush against your skin, lingering there for just a moment too long.

The memory flashes back to you, startling you as the past and present meld together.

He kissed you then much like he’s kissing you now. You pull back and look at him with wide eyes.

“Baby, y’look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” he asks, eyes searching your face.

So many seeds have taken root, blossoming in your mind. (Or maybe they’ve always been fully bloomed, and I just never saw them.) You shake your head. Your heart is beating too fast. This isn’t the time to dive into this.

But when? you wonder.

How long has he…?

No, absolutely not. You won’t let yourself go there, you can’t, not now, not when he’s looking at you like this.

“I’m sorry, E, I just got caught off guard and got overwhelmed,” you finally respond, wiping your cheeks. “You—you said you have it all figured out?”

Throwing it back to him is the right call because now he’s excited. “You’re stayin’ in Vegas, honey.” He says it so matter-of-factly that you want to believe him, but you don’t understand.

Your heart drops into your stomach, as if you are plummeting down a roller coaster, the feeling where fear and excitement meet. “Elvis, you’re not making any sense. If I stay in Vegas, Jack is gonna want to know why, and I certainly can’t say I’m here for you. And I’m pretty sure Jack doesn’t particularly want me here, anyways,” you say with distain.

“Jack’s got his fuckin’ head wedged so far up his ass, he can’t see straight,” Elvis says, blatantly annoyed. “Don’t you worry ‘bout him.”

Don’t worry about him? He’s my husband! You almost say it, then think better of it, not wanting to get into that right now. Plus, you are curious as to this solution Elvis has miraculously come up with.

“Baby, remember the other night when you’s was tellin’ me you’re unhappy, that you don’t know where you belong, what your purpose is?” he says, practically bouncing.

You nod. How could you forget? That’s what started this all in the first place.

“Well, I figured it out. You belong here, with me, with us,” he says, beaming, taking your hand in both of his. You can feel him vibrating with energy.

“Wait, what…? Us? Who’s us?” you say, utterly confused.

“Us, the show. We’ve been talkin’ about needin’ someone to sing the high voice parts, along with the Sweet Inspirations. And it just came to me, after you were singin’ in the shower. It’s you. Of course, it’s you. Now you have a reason to stay. We get to be together, and the show will have a new member. It’s perfect.” His excitement is palpable, he’s nearly glowing with it.

Oh, this man is outta his goddamned mind. You shake your head, shock and fear like ice in your veins. “Elvis, do you not remember me telling you how terrified I am of singing in front of people? I could barely sing in front of you without having a meltdown!” you practically shriek, dousing his elation.

“Hey, there’ll be none of that!” Elvis raises his voice at you, eyes darkening. It’s not a yell, but it’s stern as hell, and you realize that Elvis probably doesn’t like having his “good idea” shot down before it’s barely out of his mouth. His change in demeanor shakes you enough to calm down a little. You know him well enough to know his mood can change on a dime, and you don’t think you can handle that on top of your own panic right now. You force yourself to take a long, deep breath.

“I’m not sayin’ you’re gettin’ up on stage with me tomorrow, honey, but I am sayin’ that maybe you need a little trainin’ to prepare you for the possibility that it could happen. And that trainin’ needs to happen here, in Vegas, with a vocal coach I already got comin’ in,” he explains more gently.

You are starting to understand what he’s getting at, and your fear abates a little. He’s not saying you’re joining the band (yet), but if you are training for it, whether it happens or not, you have a reason to stay.

“Now, I know you love music, baby, I know it in my bones cuz I see it in you, always have, plain as day. Maybe this is that purpose you’ve been lookin’ for. It’s kismet, I’m tellin’ you, honey, all this happenin’, here at once. You and me. Us needin’ another singer. Even Jack bein’ a dipshit. Can’t you see, baby? It’s meant to be,” he says fervently, holding onto your shoulders, his eyes wild with passion. He’s so enthusiastic, it’s hard to not be swept up with him.

It's meant to be…

You nod, letting him pull you along down this road. You do love music. You have been searching for something, a purpose. And you’d get to be here with him, not thousands of miles away, being sad and lonely in Memphis. What do you have to lose?

A lot, a voice counters. This is a bad idea.

You quash that voice, wanting to believe in this as much as Elvis does. As scared as you are of how out of control he makes you feel, how your feelings for him (and his for you) terrify you, you know that the stifling sadness of your old routine is slowly draining the life out of you.

If nothing else, Elvis makes you feel alive.

“Okay,” you whisper.

Elvis beams. “Really? Okay?” he asks.

“Okay, I’ll try it. I’ll work with your coach. But I can’t promise I’ll be any good or even be able to get up there,” you add pointedly.

You have to give him credit, though, because the more you think about it, the more genius the idea becomes. It could actually work in terms of your relationship, whatever it may be. But more importantly, the thought of doing something with music, something outside yourself, is enticing.

“That’s okay, we’ll just take it one step atta time,” he says, ecstatic. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “I just want you to be happy, baby. I wanna make you happy.”

God, he says it with such fervor, such sincerity, that you can’t help but be enveloped in it with him. The fact that anyone out there has your happiness at the forefront of their mind is amazing to you, much less it being Elvis Presley. And he seems to believe in you in a way you haven’t even believed in yourself in a very long time.

And that does make you happy.

Even if it scares the hell out of you.

**

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