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too-much-sunshine · 1 year

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Could u maybe give me like a description of how u think some of the photos from the photography / model (I forgot what it’s called) scenes were like? (Clothing too and that stuff)

I wanna do fanart and I thought that’d be a cool place or start but u can honestly give me any scene to do art on (like if u have a preferred scene ud wanna see art of specific photo thing of them js tell me)

Oh my gods oh my gods bestie you cant just SAY that its like a dream come true!! Literally you could draw anything and I would love it sm!! Ahhh You are so cool bestie.

Of course I can explain those for you if thats what you wanna draw!

I will say that next chapter does have descriptions of a few of those photos! So below the cut will be kinda spoiler and also super, super, super long post cause I'll include some quotes for you! <3

So! My editor and I were literally talking last night about scenes that we just see so well. I imagine this fic as a movie while I'm writing it, so to me everything is visualized very well but there are two specific scenes that I can just see so well and think would be very cool to see! (please do not think you have to do this! Its fanart so do what you want to do! Have fun with it!)

First I will go over the outfits I think. Just a reminder of their old and new outfits as their typical Hero outfits do change halfway through the fic so far. Grian first describes HotGuys outfit as:

"his normal patrolling outfit. A black tight-fitted shirt with his signature blue and orange logo plastered in the center of his still gasping chest and baggy black pants cinched around his calves. He had his bow clipped to his back in a way that could not be comfortable to lay on and his quiver attached to his thigh. And of course, dark framed sunglasses"

And Grians original Hero outfit (the first version Cub gave him) is:

"...motifs of HotGuy while being different. Like that fact while HotGuys is mostly black, this is mostly white. It was sleeveless, tied around the neck with a bow in the back. There were white fingerless gloves stretching up past the elbow and halfway to the shoulder, these also had bows. A pair of high-waisted white baggy pants cinched around the calves much like HotGuys yet these were sent over a pair of orange fishnet tights. A belt held them above the hips with a heart-shaped belt buckle with the blue and orange of HotGuy. White combat boots tied to look together laced up with orange and pink laces. Resting on the head was a pair of pink sunglasses, heart shaped. And to finish off the look, there in the center of the shirt was a rounded off version of HotGuys logo, it almost looked like a heart."

I will refer to these both as Version One! Because we also have Version Two! Scar:

"The taller one has HotGuys current Superhero outfit, with a few tweaks to it, such as a few pink details that used to be black around the waist... changed to look more like Grians."

Grian:

"...Changes made to the outfit that he noticed were there when he first saw it. It did have less bows, such as the gloves now being smooth all the way up. The one in the back of his neck stayed, but with an added latch so if it came undone then the top would still stay on. The fishnets also changed from orange to light gray, probably to break up all the bright colors."

Grian never ends up ever wearing Version One. But there is a few times we see Scar still in his Version One.

Those are the outfits I'll reference during these scenes that I see!

The first one that comes to mind is actually described in the next chapter! It would be cool to have your idea on it before you know my description, but the picture that was taken while Grian was grimacing before remembering himself as they left the Hero Tower!

" ...he pulled his heart glasses down over his eyes, dowsing the world in a pink tint... he was bombarded with what felt like hundreds of flashing lights. Disorientated, he held tighter onto HotGuys arm tilting his head up to try and catch his face... HotGuy was looking away from him and into the crowd. He had his other hand lifted, waving and smiling so bright he commanded attention...

A few braver reporters shoved at Cub, pushing their cameras and microphones in Grians face, making him pause his steps pulling HotGuy with him.

His first reaction was to grimace at the audacity. He's just some guy, no need to push and be rude. But then he saw the flashes go off and he remembered himself.

This is what I said about it in the last chapter, and I do describe that picture in the next one. But if you like this one Id love to see how you see it!

Both CuteGuy and HotGuy are in their Version Two outfits here! And have similar looking makeup on!

"Dramatic wing with some more intricate, yet simple lines around it, along with an orange and pink gradient eye shadow. Finishing off the look with some mascara on his bottom lashes only. He also applies some pinkish lip tint to his lips."

If you dont like that one (I wont be offended if you dont! <3) I just love the scene where Grian is sitting, doing his makeup on the couch while Scar is preening his wings from behind!

"...Without another word, or look at Scar, he turned around with his back facing Scar. He heard Scar shuffle as well, probably sitting crisscrossed like Grian.

Hesitantly, Grian moved his wings off the ground and onto the couch behind him for Scars reach. He felt Scar slowly place his hand on the outside of his wing...

...He changed the subject, grabbing some eye primer and a few brushes. He felt Scar placing his hand back onto his wing, starting to actually straighten his feathers. Grian... moved onto foundation and eyeshadow, trying to keep his mind off it."

I just like the idea of them being very domestic and just best friends. Its probably one of the biggest extension of trust so far in the fic and it just feels nice.

Here, they are also in their Version Two. But dressed down. I mention that Grian doesnt have his boots or quiver on. I imagine neither does Scar as they are just having a quiet morning moment.

So, those are the two I see the most. But you also asked for a description of a few of the photos from the photo shoot! There are a few that come to mind!

The main outfit that Grian is in for a few of the photos is described as:

"It was a cropped pink and red hoodie sporting the HotGuy logo over his heart. The sleeves were a bit long so they poofed out around his wrists with white cuffs. His stomach was covered by a pair of high waisted joggers. The string belt was tied off with a heart shaped bow above his naval. Scar pointed to the slightly heeled pink and white combat boots resting to the side of the shoe box. He had also handed him a pair and heart shaped sunglasses that tinted the world in a rose hue."

Both he and HotGuy are also wearing makeup!

"...applying a pinkish blush over Scars cheeks including his nose; a call to Grians look where he used red to make him look almost cartoon-like. Then he took a blue pencil and drew a star right below his right eye, matching Grians pink one. On the other side he drew a pink heart, again matching his blue one.

Taking a step back, he nodded satisfied. Leaning back in, he added a few much smaller stars and hearts around his cheeks making them look almost like freckles,."

HotGuy is actually in his Version One for these pictures. I like to think that Cub had to go over a few things after he realized he messed up with Grian and also made Scar a bit upset as well. So by this point neither of their new outfits were ready yet.

As for the pictures themselves, half of the whole shoot is taking individual pictures such as headshots and full body shots that catch what Grian looks like and what the public can expect from him. In these hes tense but trying hard to look professional and kind. Smiling nicely at the camera, and when hes posed full body he has his bow pointed at the camera or to the side with a serious face.

When hes with Scar though, he finally is told hes too tense and to have fun. Which basically means Scar is being goofy to the camera to try and get Grian to laugh. But the photographer mostly catches when Grian is rolling his eyes with a smile, making him look a bit like a troublemaker. And when him and Scar are posing together, thats shown even more as Grian is purposefully making himself a nuisance to Scar. Getting in the way of the camera or taking his bow from him or pointing his own bow at him making Scar raise his hands in faux fear.

(A few specific ones I imagine are HotGuy pointing at the camera with a bright smile, while CuteGuy leans on his shoulder looking at the camera with his arms crossed and a sly smirk. Or Grian on the ground as Scar extends his hand to help him up, both are laughing. I also see Scar smiling and 'checking himself out' in the camera while CuteGuy is behind him pointing his bow at him while he doesnt even know.)

I mention him having a few outfits changes and those are stuff like, white and blue skirts with white tights underneath and whits knee length boots. A mix of shirts with either HotGuy or CuteGuy logos on it. He is dressed in what I feel like is a mix of Arianna Griande type look but functional superhero outfits.

Something I struggle with is keeping the balance of Grian being masculine and feminine. He is secure in how he dresses and the things he likes. But societal wise, theres still a little bit of pressure there and he knows that. What is a little bit of a spoiler, but will say, is that these photos, when released to the public, are meant to pain Grian is a mischievous and troublemaker look. And its a good thing. Him and HotGuy are pinned against each other as opposites two times over. Their colors are opposite, and to the public, so are their personas!

I hope this helps! I went a little bit on a tangent there so sorry! Please dont feel like you need to do any of this! I just hope I was able to help you with the compilation of quotes for you too look at! And sorry this took so long to answer!

If you need anything else please to be afraid to ask! And I cant wait to see anything you create! <3<3<3<3

#woftl #woftl spoilers #SunShineTalks #Maybe I'll draw them myself too!#draw my on fanart lol #thank you so muchh

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oflgtfol · 8 months

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ok so for clarity im making this post in two parts because i had originally saved the original post as a draft but now something else has happened to complicate the situation but i feel like you still need to see the original post to know my feelings over time

[original post, drafted on august 29th:]

anyway i need a bit of a reality check on this like am i being weird and overthinking it or what

so my store has traditionally been all or almost all entirely women. the most we ever had was like 1, at most 2 guys working replenishment. we’ve had several long stretches where there was not a single male employee

my new SM is, well, a man. and we have many many problems with him for reasons that i wouldnt say are sexism but is mostly just that he’s a bad manager and the store is falling apart because of it and we’re bearing the brunt of it. especially weird dynamic because hes a 50 year old man and the entire rest of the store’s staff are all young women, at most mid 20s, and a sizeable number still literally in high school. our two full time managers, one in her mid 30s and the other in her 60s, have left for various reasons, which means that there is no sort of mediator to advocate for us anymore. its just this middle aged man overseeing a bunch of young women. add on how overbearing and bad he is as a manager in general and its like toxic lol

and so now hes finally started hiring for seasonal and its…. As far as i can tell, literally the only people calling the store saying they have interviews, have been guys.

and so i feel weird, and i feel weird thst i feel weird about it, that we’re now hiring like 5 men. but i also feel kinda justified in feeling weird because i almost feel like this is the SM pulling more weird shit. that he doesnt like this all female dynamic and is now trying to like, idk

IT FEELS WEIRD verbalizing it but hes a very condescending guy and the store is falling apart and so it almost feels like hes now giving up our current all female staff and trying to bring men in to fix it?? like he cant fire any of us women bc we’ve been here longer than him but now hes gonna bring in his own people for the first time and its all men? fundamentally changing the dynamic of the store that has been here for years longer than he’s even been with the company, and to further establish a disconnect between him and his young female staff ?????

am i overthinking it and reading condescension/superiority/whatever the word is into this. like i feel weird for being put off over hiring more than 1 dude per season but also this SM is backhanded like that so i really cant discount that there might be some weird vibes or motives behind this

[original post’s accompanying tags for the full picture:]

[new addition on september 3rd]

so now i just found out that this guy, who was literally the guy in the break room having his first day on august 29th, is being considered to be promoted to a manager

which is killing me because theres been all this talk among the managers for literally almost a year now about making me a manager and ive been indecisive because i dont know if i want to or not but ultimately its just been a “what if” situation to me because the actual SM hasnt said a word to me about it! he has never given me an offer. he has never even vaguely mentioned it to me. the only reason i know about it is bc im friends with the other managers and they tell me that hes been thinking about it for a while now

and my framing manager told me that this new guy was being considered as a new manager and i said “well. im actually kind of offended now that hes only been here for a week. meanwhile here i am” and she said “didnt SM give you an offer though?” and i told her that no the SM has not uttered a word to me about this and she was shocked

and its just. this kid has been here literally five fucking days? what the fuck? what the hell is going on. like yeah i am kind of offended actually. i still dont know if i would accept if given the offer but my indecision comes from whether i’d get an adequate raise and i cant come to a final decision without being able to negotiate my raise, which i cant do that if i havent been given the offer !!!! ive been here over two years i know pretty much everything in this store im cross trained on everything and everyone else in this store looks up to me as a non-manager superior and ive been told multiple times by the non-sm managers AND my non-manager coworkers that i should become a manager. meanwhile this guy has been here five days, ive interacted with him for two minutes, and of those moments i spent near him he barely spoke a word to me, and im sure he doesnt have the trust + camaraderie with my other coworkers yet as well, and yet SM wants him to become a manager like five days into him being hired ?!?!?

and again i dont know if i’d accept so thats why i feel kind of stupid for being offended but also like it’d still be nice to have offer ! especially compared to the guy who just started five days ago!!

#brot posts #i need other peoples opinions on this idont know if im being stupid #i know at the very least the idea of newbie being promoted before me is fucked #but like am i stupid in thinking theres a gendered element to this

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with-love-from-hell · 2 years

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6,14,27,42,43

Love your writing!

6. Age you get mistaken for?

Basically since I was like, 8, I have gotten mistaken for being much older than I actually am- and part of that reason is because I started going through puberty at a relatively young age. So when I was 8 or 9, I often got mistaken as like a 12 year old. When I was 12, I often got mistaken for a high schooler. When I was 15, I often got mistaken for an 18 or 19 year old. And when I was finally an adult, I often got told I looked like I was in my mid twenties. Now I feel like I look more my age, but I still sometimes get people thinking I’m older. Often times people will say I look like between 28-31, and I am currently 26 (but will be 27 in about two weeks). So yeah. I often get mistaken for being older haha.

14. Biggest turn offs?

Oh god where do I start. If we’re talking actual turn offs and not just pet peeves, that will be a shorter list- so lets stick to that. Rough hair pulling, degradation/insulting and the like, feeling objectified, most dirty talk, any sort of talk about “punishment” (ugh I cringe just thinking about it), any physical pain outside of normal stretching or temperature play...yeah. There are probably more but those are the ones that come to mind right off the bat.

27. A Description of the person I like

Well, I will give you a description of my fiancé since...ya know, lol.

They are about 6′2″, relatively slender but has a bit of muscle and a more masculine build. They are white, but not as pale as me. They have three tattoos- one on their right pectoral, one on their left wrist, and one on their right upper arm. Their ears are pierced, and they have a belly button ring. They have a 3/4 shave around their head, with the top left alone (think Sokka from ATLA). Their hair is dark brown at the roots, but bleached blonde (and sometimes colored blue/steele if they remember to regularly dye it lol). If they let their facial hair grow, their beard comes in thick and is dark red in color. They are usually found wearing jeans and a tee shirt, but often need to wear chef pants and whites for their job, and will sometimes wear a blouse and a bralette if feeling more feminine- which typically tends to be during the summer months because their winter clothes consist of hunting garb and flannels lol.

They are relatively quiet, but talk up a storm about the things that interest them once they get comfortable around you. They love memes and GenZ humor, and they are really into hunting, fishing, outdoor survival, woodworking, carpentry, grilling, cooking, and video games. They have a strong bond to their Norse heritage, and associate themselves with Freyja, Thor, and Odin (though they are NOT an Odinist). They don’t pay much attention to detail and are distracted easily, but they have a very creative mind and can often see the bigger picture more easily than I can. They are good at what they do and have many different areas of skill that are very interesting and useful, and if they really put their mind to something, I know they can do it.

42. Last thing I ate

uhhh, I believe it was a Salmon and rice bowl thing I got at Wal-Mart. I mean, for a microwave meal after work, it was pretty good lol.

43. Sexiest person that comes to mind immediately

Would I be a broken record if I said Lucifer? lmao. I am also a big simp for Levi from AOT, and Genos from One Punch Man.

Well, if I cant pick fictional characters, I would have to say the slots on my “Sexy persons” list definitely goes to Jason Mamoa, Robert Pattinson, Kellen Quinn, Janelle Monae, Adam Gontier, Ashley Costello, and Missy Elliot. At least these are the ones that came to mind instantly

Ask me things!

#ask game #about me #stormy speaks

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firebuug · 2 years

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for the weird questions for writers thing: obligatory 6 9 4 and 20 bc funny. but for like actual questions 17 and 18

do not test me i will answer them all. my answers r below the cut LOL

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

tbh? that people read it and go “oh. uh. this is uh. cringe” or that they totally read it thru the wrong lens. like if someone looked at a piece where i poured my inner anxieties and feelings into and they went “wow so they just wanted this character to be whiny for a sec huh.” bc tbh in the end ya thats what it is its a silly character saying funny thing but also like i never ever do that. if i do that and SHOW U that writing then i am trusting you with my life and my cringe and my life essence a—

also just being obviously inexperienced lol. i dont write professionally and dont intend to its just for funzies but am still self conscious anywayz

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

yes ever since i was little i tried to let any ghost who may live in my house know i am its friend by sticking my foot out before bed and promising i wouldnt tell anyone if they could read my mind. my aunts had a haunted house and they went full investigator mode and somehow came to the conclusion it was their relative who wanted a last birthday party, so they threw a party for the ghost and all poltergeist activity stopped in their house

also related to writing but my friend’s WIP rn is literally titled He Doesn’t Believe In Ghosts

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

ive been writing the word Prestidigitation a lot bcuz dnd and i fucking HATE THAT WORD i cant even pronounce it i hate it die die die. also medival or mideival or whateve rthe fuck its spelled i hate that word

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

. ok so im not a big writer so the only wips ive got goin on are a self indulgent band au psychoanalysis piece, a hypothetical comic con murder mystery and the forever cancelled zombie apocalypse story i wrote from elementary to middle school w my ocs. and tbh i would kill to see the comic con murder mystery completed just to read it myself so i would take that offer. but also it isnt a WIP but if i could have that witch rewrite the juggernaut event for me as the epic cinematic arpg video and writing combination thing i pictured it as id give her my life

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

UM um well. i dont have any plot for murder mystery and my band au is just. oc story that i can ramble about whenever but . my zombie apocalypse was the funniest shit. i played this for serious and i love how apeshit my imagination was back then. the lore was that a zombie virus happened bc the ceo of an evil company’s fail brother locked himself underground on accident and in the period which he was stuck in there tried to make himself a friend. but it corrupted and became a zombie and killed him and escaped. and the world got so bad that the scientists found a planet and named it Earth 2 and everyone got on there except for a bunch of everyday average people including our cast. and now. they r forced to survive. i published it frequently on deviantart journals and still have it on my google drive, sometimes i used to read it to get inspired to make apeshit stories for fun, but i havent in a while

8. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

does. does this mean like a snippet from my own writing? UHH a lot of my writing is oc stuff that i work into their stories but let me try and pull up something old that actually has a chance of having backstory to it HAHAJK

ok all i found was this from a Splatoon writing which i thot was funny because of the context of Buggy seeing a totally abandoned, empty subway station and still INSISTING on not hopping the ticket scanner or whatever. help. like i dont have any commentary i just wanted u to see this. :

“Just hop over it,” he remembered Skuggy telling him, “nobody cares.” Buggy felt too bad about it, though, and got him to lend him his old card anyways. He reached into his pockets for the said card and stuck it into the slot. The little dusty screen on top of the gate showed a little spinny loading circle before a light shone green and he was let in.

whatever. anyways instead ill spit fun fax about the juggernaut story writing event arpg thing bc i um. i um. i . i. i . @im-hiding22 its bad compared to my writing now but it was sillyfun

- i did not actually intend for buggy to kill farrow i intended for it to be a fake-out and for farrow to scramble to life right when the juggernaut approached or whatevs. but when all my friends went insane like he did die i thought “wouldnt it be funny if he died fr”

- i was intending on mendel to be the first death under the jugg’s hands because itd be cool for the creation to get revenge in its creator and for the story to be everyone trying to fix mendel’s mistakes themselves and possibly bring him back. but i could not imagine anything thatd reverse his mistakes in a satisfying way so i scrapped and rewrote it

- literally only wrote the stupid loredump radio broadcast cuz i had finished reading the nightvale novel

- 80% of the most fun i had from that and the most story-impacting decisions came from my friends sending asks, and seeing my friends actively wanting to participate and speculate on something i was writing was literally the most touching thing i have ever felt in my life. im reliving that high by running a dnd campaign in which now i can focus on telling my friends’ stories and intertwining them with my own

ok bye. this was 3 years long, im giving you a brownie if you read this far because youre incredible! all of the old writing i posted here can be found under the ;writing hashtag which will be tagged here :D if u. ever wanna see cringe splatoon or town of salem oc fanfic LOLL

#ask #THANKS FOR THE OPPORTUNITY TO RAMBLE #;writing #rambles

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sleepy-dreamers-inc · 3 years

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Going to School with Ranboo!|| 📌

[i was going to answer this but i was a big dummy dum dum and accidentally deleted the ask bUT I REMEMBERED YOU DEAR ANON]

irl / in-game

Genre| fluff and (minor) angst

h e a d-c a n n o n s||

Sypnosis|

You and Ranboo go to school together, so have some scenarios and thoughts about it!!

Artist| grapeichie on twitter!!

warnings| bullying, stress, swearing

Note: you are a streamer in this!! You are also in the SMP!

optional platonic or romantic!!

- so going to school with Ranboo is both amazing and weird. You two have tons of stories of the dumb shit that happened there.

- Nobody will ever find Y/N and Ranboo far apart, even if you guys dont share classes one of you will randomly appear and at this point no one questions it

- Both of you meeting up at eachothers classroom/locker to walk together to your next destination

- Both of you helping eachother with schoolwork, Ranboo would totally tutor you in any subject you struggle with. Both of you go to his house but you two end up getting bored, so he does a Facecam stream with you in the background vibing. (It was so much fun)

- You guys are both the teacher’s favorites and least favorites. You both add so much life to the school but thats the exact problem.

- Y/N: haha look at that high waisted man he got feminine hips!!

Ranboo: NOOOO THATS THE THING HE’S SENSITIVE ABOUT

That Poor Teacher:

- I can totally imagine some kids in your school being invested in the SMP and both of you just nervously sweat in the background. Bonus points if ya’ll’s friends are into it so its just absolute panic

- You trying to help him not be awkward, especially when it comes to talking to new people. I can totally see like a new girl trying to talk to him and he just panics, so you have to step in and explain and help the poor boy out.

- You two are like,, inseparable. Like literally rarely does anyone see you guys apart. So this kinda urks some people who have crushes on him, or literally just your stereotypical bully.

- So one day while you we’re grabbing things for your next class, someone slammed against the locker next to yours, slamming yours shut in the process.

“Well well well, if it isnt the clingy one. Im surprised your not with that dork, you two practically don’t function without the other.” The guy snickered, leaning forward directly in Y/N’s face.

“And how is that any of your concern? And why does it matter?” Y/N said, standing straight up staring at the guy. “Because your fucking pathetic, thats why. Your useless without him and both of us know it.” He spat, pushing Y/N to the floor with a thud, they’re books crashing to the ground around them. Snickers could be heard from around them, as well as gasps and ‘oh-no’s’.

“Awww whatcha gonna do now, freak? You gonna go cry to that loser? Because i have a better idea. Your gonna shut up, and if not, he gets hurt.” The boy said, picking Y/N up by the collar of they’re shirt, and soon slamming them back into the lockers. All he did was laugh and walk away, muttering “pathetic, good for nothing freak.”

- You went home by yourself that day, usually Ranboo walks you home so you two can hangout, but you were nowhere to be seen. This went on for 2 weeks, and you practically avoided him at all costs, not wanting him to get hurt.

- But when he walked into school one day and saw Y/N being harassed by a group of people, he surely wasn’t the one hurt.

“Awww, cant move?” One said, twisting Y/N’s wrist even more, bruising they’re arm as they whimpered in pain. “Awww i think they’re gonna cry!!” Someone else chimmed in, one girl quickly said “better take a picture of this before the moments gone.” As she giggled, snapping a photo of you in the middle of being bullied.

“Delete it, and leave.” Ranboo said, looking down at the three who were currently tormenting you. You looked so sad yet happy, but you knew what was about to happen. “I thought i fucking told you not to tell him, guess your getting it.” The guy said, kicking your stomach and slamming you against the lockers.

You never in your wildest dreams expected Ranboo to punch someone, he was so sweet and charismatic, very passive and neutral. But now, your bully laid on the floor, a bloody nose, and Ranboo towering over him. “Dont. Touch. Them.” Ranboo snarled, leaning down and looking at the bully directly in the eyes.

- A fight soon broke out, leaving one guy with a black eye, bloody nose and a bruised arm and shoulder. Ranboo got suspended, but you left with him, not wanting to be at school and instead with him.

- While walking home he stopped, pulled off his white and black hoodie, put it on you, and soon enveloped you in a hug. Y/N return the favor, and all he said shakily was ‘i love you’

- God no one ever fucked with Y/N again everyone was scared spineless

- The entire SMP had a ‘bruh’ moment when you two told them. Of course Techno was very happy about Ranboo beating some kids up.

- But like back to happy stuff,,

- Kahoot? Idk if you guys play it in school but i do, and both you and Ranboo are such a power duo in Kahoot games

- Trading each others lunch because thats what duo’s like you two do, share with the homies

- Both of you being referees in sports because if other wise someone is going to accidentally get hurt

- You having to walk Ranboo to the nurses office after he got hit in the face with a basketball.

- The librarian does not like the fact you two cannot be quiet. You both are constantly cracking up and can never keep it down

- I know for a FACT one of you got your hands on the teacher’s computer, and i know one of you are playing memes during class while your Teacher is screeching

- All your teachers think both of you are cheating because you have synced brains and get every single answer the exact. same.

- Pulling some kind of huge end of the year prank

- Both of you speaking in zoomer language and not even your classmates have any idea what your saying

- I can see both of you accidentally writing/typing ‘pog’ into a essay/class assignment and your teacher being VERY confused

- Blasting fan-made songs about both of your guys characters and everyone liking them, and both of you are just giggling and smiling because they dont know

- Your friend group see you two doing something and they’re just like “ah shit, here we go again”

- Both of you going to school events only to ensue chaos and be idiots

- On the first day one of you getting lost and the other having to go fetch the other one

- Both of you crashing at the others house to study but it probably didnt go well

- You two are honestly just encased in your own little shared bubble, just vibing and being yourselves

- i feel like this is going on forever and most of it was just angst so I’ll go ahead and cut this off lol

a/n: TWO UPLOADS IN ONE DAY??? CALL ME GO-

Okay but in all seriousness i hope this was not total shit and actually pleasant to read. Idk i just feel like this bad

Anyways I promise I’ll get to working on pt. 2 of dad wilbur but i have some other requests i need to work on. But in the meantime simp for Ranboo and Wilbur okay bye

#ranboo x reader #ranboo imagine #ranboo fanfiction #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #dream smp x reader #mcyt imagine #dream smp fanfiction #dsmp x reader #dream smp imagine #dsmp fanfiction #dreamer posts ♠️

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delicrieux · 3 years

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—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 3 years

Text

Settling In: Parentals

Inspired by @i-cant-sing and their Yandere Todoroki Clan AU

The room is pink. Well, it’s mostly pink. It’s pink with white furniture and embellishments. The closet doors are white and so is the windowsill. The floor is hardwood brown. But everything else is a bubblegum pink.

You’d prefer another color, one that wasn’t so bright and grating to the eyes. But you don’t say that. You just fiddle with your one dufflebag’s handle. This is all you have left, after bouncing around from group home to group home. A year ago—when your parents died—you had thrice as much. Now this and the backpack for schoolwork is all you have left.

“Do you like it?” The mother of this house and wife to the current number one hero, asks you a question. He’s not here; nobody’s here except you two. The house seems too big for three people, but there are pictures on the wall of others. It doesn’t look lived in; there is no semblance of a family. Though, the pictures on the wall show a six person family. It shows that there are four more people here and you get your own room. In a house with now seven people, you get your own room and you aren’t giving it up.

Despite the pink color and the vast emptiness, you answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.” You do like it, even if it's not for the right reasons

Her hands are on your shoulder. You can feel the increased pressure on one side lift up, almost as if she’d been purposefully holding onto you too tight.

“Good. Now, let’s unpack.” She gracefully takes the bag out of your hand, setting it atop the bed. You sit down alongside it, opening your backpack. A couple of notebooks, pencils, and two textbooks sit inside.

You start to stand, heading to take the materials to the desk they’ve provided. Though, whilst holding a pair of pajamas—slightly too little but in [y/f/c]—she takes the books out of your hand.

“Just relax, [Y/N].” Rei replies, “Let me handle it.”

You sit on the bed twiddling with your blouse’s edge. You wore your best outfit, even though it was just your school uniform, without the frumpy sweater.

The bed is insanely soft. With satin sheets, a thick, fluffy comforter, and a healthy amount of pillows, it's easily the softest place you’ve been.

“I’ll have a driver return your school books back to your former school.” Rei replies, on the other side of the room. You shift to look at her, but she has her back turned to you. “I’ll discuss with my husband what school to place you at.”

“Alright.” You’ve had to transfer schools about three times since last year. Moving again isn’t a hassle anymore. You know not to hope you won’t move again. Though. you know not to get attached to anything in case you have to—in case this doesn’t work out.

“We’ll get you a better education than the one you were definitely receiving.” You can hear the gentle thump of one of your textbooks. She heads back to your duffle bag; it’s now half empty. “My eldest three all went to Somei Private Academy for junior high. Two ended up continuing through highschool as well. My eldest went to Shiketsu and my youngest is in Yuuei now.”

You know those schools. They’re expensive, private academies. You’ve only ever been in public schools. The wealth was obvious when you were picked up in a blackened car with a driver. You just didn’t expect them to spend that money on you, a lowly orphan.

“Or we’ll just hire a set of tutors like we did for our youngest before he went to Yuuei.” She decides what to hang up or fold. You’ll have to go through it all later to find everything. Luckily, you don’t own much—or unluckily, depends on how you look at it. But you don’t dwell on the issue long, responding quickly to the lady, “Alright.”

She smiles at you. It’s sincere, motherly. It’s what your mother would’ve done, before the accident. It’s something you sorely missed since then.

“You’re extremely agreeable, aren’t you?” She finishes out the bag, pressing it into the top of your closet. Your backpack gets sat beside the desk. This room is large and your things are set in its appropriate places across from it.

“I guess.”

“That’s a good thing, darling.” She goes to mess with your hair, “Now, for dinner tonight, let's change you into something a bit nicer, yes?”

You pause, looking at your toes in their pristine white socks. You can see her legs as well, considering how close she is to you, “This is the nicest thing I own.”

“That’s fine. We’ll just have to go shopping for some new things.” Rei replies, taking her other hand to your chin, forcing you to look her in the eyes, “Enji and I know what we are getting ourselves into, buying you a whole new wardrobe will be nothing.”

She takes her hands from your head and into your hands, helping you up.

“Where are we going?” She leads you back from your room to the rest of the house.

“Shopping, darling.” Rei replies, “We have five hours to do so, before I must start dinner, that is. Is there anything you want?”

“No, not really.” She’s already planning to drop a substantial amount of money on you and she’s already being incredibly maternal. You aren’t going to stretch that patience thin and have her snap already. You aren’t going to ruin this for yourself.

She smiles at you, “I’ll figure out what you like soon enough.”

===

The shopping mall standing in front of you was not where you usually would’ve gone. A basic department store, maybe a strip mall if you’re lucky would be where you usually shopped. This place however, is at least four stories high standing stark white and black against the almost colorless blue-grey sky. Though, you don’t get to admire it long. Rei quickly pulls you out of the cold outdoors and into the perfectly heated building.

“Now, I say we head to clothing stores first and then to more home goods type stores, so we don’t have to pack the heavy stuff around. Though, if we get too much to carry, we can send it back to the car and then continue shopping.” Rei replies, “Is that alright?”

You nod, still reluctantly going along this whole situation. The car is actually a limo and you have your own room in a massive estate. You have an impossibly nice and maternal caretaker who’s insanely rich. This is your “Annie” moment; this is your fairytale scenario. The shoe has to drop at some point. You aren’t going to be blindsided when it does.

“Good.” She locks arms with you, holding you close. It’s weird, but not entirely uncomfortable. You want to trust her. Your sense of judgement is clouded, knowing that she can’t really be this nice, but you want her to be like this

She leads you into a clothing store, taking you to the brightly colored section. Rei silently holds a peach colored sweater up to you. She grabs an orange skirt, looking at them both together.

“What do you think of this?” She asks, holding them up together. The sweater is thick,

assumedly warm. The skirt however, isn’t,. You tell her that.

“That’s what some white stockings are for [y/n].” She laughs lightly, “and please call me Rei. You don’t have to be so formal.”

“Alright... Rei.” Acclimating to her is easy. At the moment, you don’t care what the rest of her family is like, she’s nice and maternal and everything you miss from your own mother.

She grabs multiple sweater and skirt combinations, not grabbing a single pair of pants for you. This store doesn’t sell tee shirts or blouses, sticking to a younger, but put together catalog. You briefly entertain the idea of them being traditionalists, but you don’t mind that. You’ve lived in worse houses than one with conservative ideals.

And besides, the outfits are cute. You hope you can keep them if everything goes south.

“Put these on.” She hands you the clothing, “and I want to see every outfit you try on. I want to see if it looks good.”

The fitting rooms are nicer than any you’ve ever been to. When checking the price of the items she’s handed to you, you can see why. The least expensive thing is a 10,000 yen skirt. It’s plain blue, just like the 1,500 yen one you have on now. It's obviously of higher quality, but guilt pangs in your chest at the thought of her spending so much money on you. This is at least a dozen items in here.

You slip it on, alongside the white sweater, filled with gold stars. You look at yourself in the mirror, before heading out the door. Rei sits in a chair, looking at you.

“You look absolutely adorable.” Rei comments, “We’re keeping it.”

She doesn’t let you put your input in. But she’s paying for it, so you don’t complain.

Five more times, you come out in sweater and skirt combinations. She has nothing but praise for each outfit. It’s refreshing. Your last home was less than pleasant.

Rei leaves you to change back into your uniform. All six outfits are bought and placed into two bags, both on her arm away from you. She wraps her other arm into the crook of your arm.

“Onto the next store we go.”

As you all head to a different floor of the mall, you voice concerns you originally had back in the dressing room, “You know… you don’t have to spend so much money on me.” You tell her, then backtrack, “Not that I’m not grateful! I am really! It’s just that I don’t need stuff this fancy, you know?”

“[Y/N], I am your mother now. It’s my duty to get you clothes and stuff.” She says it with a certainty that is oddly comforting. Everything about her is that way, from her soft, smooth skin to her warm, grey eyes to her bright, white smile. She’s intensely maternal, something that you didn’t realize you wanted anymore, until today, “and we must keep you up to the Todoroki standard. After all, you’re going to be one of us for now on.”

Being one of them. You don’t know of any Todorokis; you’ve never been a huge fan of heroes like some of your peers. But belonging, that’s something you’ve craved since it was ripped away from you. A family—that’s what you’ve always wanted.

“All right.”

“Chin up, shoulders back.” She tells you, “You’re new life begins tonight.”

===

Rei never let you carry a single bag throughout your trip. She also wouldn’t let you see any of the receipts or let you have a final word on anything you got. But, you got all nice things—all things you like. So, you don’t mind.

“Change into the white dress with the red and pink roses.” She instructs, “And redo your hair. First impressions are important, after all.”

You haven’t met her husband, nor any of her children. But, as the pictures on the wall show, her husband is Endeavor, the number one hero. Usually you’d meet the person fostering you beforehand, but with his affluence, there needed to be no meetings beforehand.

Following her instructions, you rifle through the bags, finding the dress she wanted you to wear. Slipping out of your old clothes and into the cold, expensive dress is a quick process. Doing your hair to a standard that would make her proud, is not. Eventually you get it right.

Unlike earlier, you take the time to unbag your stuff. You mimic what Rei did in your closet. Shirts, sweaters and dresses are hung up. Skirts, leggings, and stockings are folded in the dresser. The shoes are placed on the inside of your closet. The few decorations you got are placed so that they don’t move what Rei and her husband already got you. She’s extremely peculiar about order. You won’t break that order.

“[Y/N].” She knocks on the door that doesn’t lock, “What’s taking you so long. Do you need help?”

You open the door for her, “I was just putting everything away, Rei.”

She comes in, looking at the room. She pulls the draws out and reopens the closet door, looking inside them. It’s an inspection, to see if everything is up to code.

Rei pinches your cheek, “ It’s perfect, exactly how I imagined it.”

Perfect. She’s praising your work. The word warms your heart, bringing a smile to your face. You haven’t gotten enough praise in your life, clearly.

“Thank you.”

“Now come on.” She tugs at your wrist, “Enji will be here any moment and I need help plating the table. Usually Fuyumi would do it, but you’ll meet my other children at a later date. Tonight is just about you, me, and Enji.”

“Alright.” Relief settles from your scrunched up soldiers. You only have to meet one new person, not five like you assumed. One person is better than five people—even if he is the #1 Hero.

You’re led back through the sitting room and into the dining room. It’s nice, well lit. It’s low to the ground and cushioned. You’ve expected this from this house. Every room besides your own is extremely traditional. You expected the whole house to be like this, once you walked through the doors.

“The plates and cups are in the left cabinet, do be careful with them.” Rei points to a side room, at the back of the dining room, “I’ll bring in the cutlery. Enji should be here soon.”

As if on cue, you hear the front door being opened. A low voice calls out, “Rei, darling? [Y/N]?”

You freeze, plates and cups in hand. Something about the number one hero calling out of your name unsettles you. Though, somehow immediately aware of your apprehension, Rei places a cold hand against your back. You can feel it through the dress, which isn’t surprising, considering how thin it is.

“We’re in the dining room, honey.” Rei takes the plates and cups from your hands, placing them down and simultaneously leading you to your seat. You sit, legs together and bent to the side. You sit currently in the seat to the left of the table’s end.

The number one hero—Rei’s husband—kisses her cheek. He towers over her. She was waiting for him at the entrance. You try not to make any noise; you try not to interrupt them.

She heads to the seat across from you, leaving Endeavor to sit at the head of the table. You aren’t surprised; this family gives of very traditional vibes. He radiates heat to your right, still aflame, showing off his powerful quirk.

The food is already on the table. It’s more than enough for the three people here, possibly more than enough for the six people in the photos—plus yourself. You make your own plate, only getting what you know you’ll eat. You don’t want to take too much, you don’t want to be greedy.

“Make sure you actually get full, [Y/N].” Rei smiles at you. It’s warm and soft.

“I am, Miss.” You can feel Endeavor staring at you, but you don’t look at him. You shift your head down, looking at the plate in front of you. You don’t grab more; you don’t want to ruin their hospitality with your selfishness.

Rei and Endeavor talk to themselves, mostly about work. They occasionally talk about three other people—Shoto, Fuyumi, and Natsuo. There are four children in the photos on the wall; it’s a family of six. Though, you don’t ask about the unnamed child, it isn’t your place to do so.

You finish your food fairly quickly, but so do the other two. You look up at Endeavor for the first time tonight, asking, “Can I be excused, sir.”

“No.” He replies, “We have things to discuss.”

“Oh… alright.” You fiddle with the hem of your dress underneath the table, “What do you want to discuss, sir?”

“I’ll take the dirty dishes and excess food.” Rei smiles at you, “You’ll be fine, [Y/N]. Pass me your plate.”

Endeavor waits for Rei to leave to start talking. You are acutely aware of how hot it is now, without Rei’s cooling, calming effect.

“How was your day today?” He starts the conversation off decently well. You look him in the eye, “Good.” You were taught manners growing up; you know how to hold a conversation, no matter how intimidating the person you’re talking to is.

“That is a pretty dress on you, [Y/N].”

“Thank you.”

“Now then. While you are here, there shall be rules you will follow. Rei and I have devised a fair list and she’ll go over them with you extensively in the morning.” He tells you, “Though, the ones concerning you tonight are: no technology post-dinner and that you shall be in bed by ten o’clock. Rei shall wake you up at seven am tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Those aren’t too harsh rules; other homes have had worst lists. Though, you won’t make a final decision on that until tomorrow. You tentatively ask another question, “Uhhh, sir. Rei mentioned other children. If you don’t mind me asking, where are they?”

“Shoto goes to U.A. They have dorms now and are forced to stay there. Fuyumi and Natsuo have since moved out, but visit occasionally. You’ll meet them when it is appropriate.” Endeavor tells you, “And [Y/N], call me Enji. You are now dismissed.”

“Alright, Enji.” As you stand to leave, you use his name, “Thank you.”

#yandere todoroki clan #yandere todoroki family #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere #mha #bnha #platonic yandere #yandere enji todoroki #yandere rei todoroki #enji todoroki #rei todoroki #canon? what canon?#who was going to tell me that my line breaks dont transfer over to tumblr like they do to ao3

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elareine · 3 years

Note

Tim realizing that since Jason has been in the pit, Jason is always cold. He cant get warm. Tim throws himself into working this out, there has to be something to warm Jason.

Hi, anon, thank you for your patience. I… took the sappy route with this. Since this got longer than 1k, I posted it on ao3, too.

Attempt One

“How’re you doing?”

Tim eyes the bundle in front of him critically. Jason dropped by his safe house thirty minutes ago, teeth chattering after an encounter with Mr. Freeze, and he only looked marginally better. The chattering stopped; that can be a good sign or a very bad one.

Jason gives him a weak grin. “Alright. No danger of turning into an icicle any time soon.”

Hmm. Tim will see that for himself.

When he moves, Jason lifts a hand in protest. “Hey, no—“

Tim completely ignores Jason’s protests—he’d feel worse about it if it wasn’t the only way to handle injured Bats—and sticks his hand between the isolation blanket and Jason’s neck… just to flinch back. “Holy shit!”

“Nah, it’s—“

“It’s hypothermia, is what it is!” Whatever bullshit is coming out of Jason’s mouth, Tim is not listening. “You’re going into shock! We gotta get some extra heat in here, or maybe actually call the hospital; I’m not equipped for this—“

Jason’s hand closes over his mouth. Tim gives him a second to remove it, then he licks it.

Jason just grins. “As I was trying to say: It’s always like that. My body temperature never went back to normal after daying.”

“Nnr?”

“Never.” Jason shrugs. He looks completely unbothered in a way that leaves Tim incensed. That’s just stupid. Did Jason just accept the fact that he’s in constant discomfort as if that’s not a thing there should be—should be—multiple solutions to, what the fuck. Tim is gonna fix this, so God help him.

Tim is so busy coming up with 315 possible solutions that he even forgets to bite Jason’s hand for a moment.

(Only a moment, though. “Ouch!”)

Attempt Two

“I’m not sure how you think piling more blankets on me will help me raise my core temperature.”

“Of course it’s not.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at the three blankets currently on top of him. “Right. Silly of me.”

Tim rolls his eyes. Men. So ungrateful. “Your core temperature is obviously affected. That’s why I brought heating blankets.” Many, many heating blankets. Jason ends up looking somewhat like a disgruntled duck by the end. Tim has pictures to prove it.

Thirty minutes later, Tim takes Jason’s temperature. Still way, way too low for a human. He sighs. That would’ve been too easy, huh.

“You know,” Jason waggles his eyebrows, “there’s a rather more traditional way of warming up under the blanket.”

Tim swats his head. “Keep it in your pants.”

“Even if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be able to tell under all these blankets,” Jason tells him mournfully.

Tim decides that retreat is the better part of valor. For today. Just until he can stop imagining what Jason could do to… warm up.

Attempt Three

“A hot bath.”

“…you think I haven’t tried that?”

No. No, actually Tim doesn’t, and his expression must adequately convey that cause Jason throws his hands up. “Okay, no, I haven’t, not really. My place isn’t that fancy.”

“It certainly doesn’t have this tub. Now shoo, get out of these clothes.”

“Why, darlin’, you only ever had to ask.” Without ceremony, Jason pulls off his shirt, then begins working on his belt. “Alright, tell me: What makes this tub special?”

“From observation, I conclude that your resistance to high temperatures has also increased,” Tim begins in an excellent mad scientist voice, just to drop it right after. “Or you wouldn’t be able to wear that fucking jacket in summer. So I engineered a tub that will slowly heat up to a temperature just above 50 degrees Celsius.”

“I sure hope so,” Jason grumbles as he climbs in, unabashed in his nudity, “cause right now it’s really fucking cold, babybird.”

Funny cause Tim thinks it’s definitely getting hot in here.

Hoping his face doesn’t heat up—haha—, he looks down at his phone and activates the heat settings on the tub. “At least,” he says thoughtfully, “we don’t have to worry about accidentally causing a heart infarct or anything like with normal freezing victims. I think.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“We’ll take it slow, anyway.”

Almost two hours later, Jason’s skin is red and wrinkled and covered in glitter from Tim’s bath bomb. He’s still cold to the touch.

Attempt Four

“Tea? Really?”

“You like tea.” Jason has been hanging around Tim’s place often enough that the younger man knows. (If there’s a corner of the top shelf just dedicated to Jason’s favorite blends, well, they don’t talk about it.) “And anyway, this tea is special.”

Jason put down the cup. “Tim.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me you didn’t get this from Ivy.”

“I didn’t get this from Ivy,” Tim recites just a little too dutifully. Truthfully, he hasn’t—it’s of his own creation in the lab—but seeing Jason squirm is just too funny.

“The things I do for you, babybird,” Jason sighs and exes about half of it. When nothing obviously terrible happens, he drinks the rest in small, careful sips.

“Nothing?”

“A hint of chamomile—I get that one, soothing—and… bergamot?”

“Yeah, that’s your favorite, right?” Tim’s taking down notes and is only half-listening. “How do you feel? Any warmer?”

When Jason doesn’t reply right away, Tim does look up. “Jay?”

The older man has a slight smile on his face. “A little warmer, yes.”

Tim brightens and jumps up. Jason lets him stick the thermometer under his tongue without any objection. Tim is a little disheartened when it climbs up to 33°C and stays there, again, though he tries to stay focused on the positives: “I guess it’s a start, though. After all, the perception of warmth is just as or more important than the objective temperature.”

“Uhuh.”

“Also, you didn’t turn green, so that’s good.”

“Tim!”

Attempt Five

“Okay, if this doesn’t work, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Please tell me you’re not hooking me up to electrodes.”

“Sorry, that’s too dumb a lie even for me.” Tim is about to demand that Jason takes his shirt off again—an unfortunate side effect of this type of experiment, really, how terrible that he has to ogle those pecs and abs again—when he pauses. “Wait. Is that… a bad thing?”

Which is terrible phrasing for Is this something that was used to torture you? but Jason seems to get it cause he shakes his head. “Nah, just didn’t know you’re into that.”

“I’m not!” Tim isn’t.

…at least, he doesn’t think he is? There’s certainly something to be said about the inherent homoeroticism of applying gel to another man’s skin and attaching electrodes. He’s so caught up in the entire thing—and the way Jason’s muscles jump and twitch when Tim applies his own brand of stimulant ray to them—that he doesn’t notice how quiet Jason is, too.

However, in the end, the thermometer still reads 33°C.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters. “I really thought I had it.”

“Guess I can put my shirt back on.” Jason makes no move to do so.

“Yeah.” Tim is looking at his notes again, trying to figure out where he went wrong. His joking words at the beginning aside, there are still options, avenues for him to pursue. It’s just that these are the most promising ones, and Tim can’t bear the thought of failure. The idea that Jason will just—will just have to live like this, forever cold and disconnected—

He lifts his face when he hears Jason putting his shoes and jacket on. “You don’t have to leave. I can still—“

“Nah, it’s fine. There’re only so many sex jokes I can make before even I can take the hint,” Jason sighs. “Thanks, though, Tim. I really appreciate the effort.” He turns toward the window.

It takes 4.7 seconds for Tim’s brain to catch up with that, and then another 2.4 for it to convince his body to move.

“Jay! Wait!”

The Solution

The afternoon sun throws golden rays into their bedroom. Tim can feel her rays tickle his face, his eyes, so he turns further into the embrace that’s been offered to him all night. Jason doesn’t wake up, just snuffles out a slight snore and pulls Tim half on top of him as if his boyfriend is some sort of overgrown teddy bear.

Tim snuggles into the crook of Jason’s neck contently. In his opinion, there’s no better place to be: His lover underneath him, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, warm and alive and here for Tim…

Wait.

Warm. Jason’s warm.

Tim scrambles up and frantically reaches for his bedside, where the damned thermometer has a place of pride after the last time he got sick, and Jason returned the favor by taking his temperature every five minutes.

“Babybird…?” Jason’s voice is rough with sleep. Tim feels a little bad about waking him up, but: !!!!

The thermometer climbs. And climbs. When it stops, it reads 36°C degrees.

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Tim whispers, awed.

“Nope,” Jason agrees amiably. “You’ll figure it out, though. Can I have some more snuggles first?”

On the one hand, Tim is dying to look this up in the literature and maybe talk to someone who knows Lazarus Pits better. This doesn’t make sense scientifically, so there has to be some magic involved, right? Perhaps the pits are more into metaphors than they thought, or—there are so many possibilities, and Tim can’t wait to explore them.

On the other hand… Jason’s looking soft and warm, opening his arms for Tim, and he’s smiling. It’s no contest, really.

Tim presses a kiss to Jason’s cheek and sinks back into his embrace, scientific pursuits forgotten.

#elareine writes #jaytim

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mcu-fan-fics-blog · 3 years

Text

The Helping Hand

This is a Repost from my Ao3 I wanted to bring it to Tumblr. I hope you like it Its currently 5 chapters I will be uploading the rest throughout the rest of the week.

Word count: 1660 approx

Summary: Y/N Krast Illegitimate Daughter of Tony Stark. Product of an unwanted teen pregnancy. What would Howard Stark be capable of doing to assure his sons future? What will happen when Tony meets our Beautiful, young, genius, rich philanthropist.

Tw: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Drug use, Drug addiction, Teen Pregnancy. (If there are any I missed please tell me.)

Introduction Ch.1

Ch.2

Back Story

(AU Howard and Maria Stark were not killed by the Winter Soldier.)

Your name is Y/N Krast First Born Daughter of Tony Stark. Sent away by Howard and Maria Stark. You being the result of an unwanted teen pregnancy. You don't know who your mother or father are. Howard Stark secretly kept in contact with you, until he passed.

Howard gave you a comfortable life and a bountiful trust fund that you gained access to on your 18th Birthday also the year he died. You are a Genius having finished college and high school at the same time with a master’s in Computer Engineering with a minor in Biology.

After Howards’ death, you were lost… you decided to help others. Thinking that maybe that would help you feel a semblance of happiness. You went to the one place you knew people needed help Sokovia.

You weren't there for long when you realized that you loved being there. The people and the culture were so welcoming and loving… at least towards you. The people definitely had their reservations, but you didn't mind.

You did as much as you could… you lived a simple life. Gave up the luxury in which you were raised and traded it for a small two-bedroom apartment that you shared with a friend who needed help with the rent. You opened a medical facility it was by no means the best but it could do the job.

You taught people basic medical procedures, not surgery… but everyday accidents and the occasional riot scene. Stitches and patch-up jobs.

"Hey, y/n what do you want me to do with these boxes here?" You look at him confused when you realize what he is holding.

"Umm… just leave them there I want to go through them before I leave." David gives you a fond look as he moves to sit next to you. "It's crazy to hear you say that… It seems like just yesterday you were that fresh-faced kid trying to help people."

You clear your throat as you see where the conversation is heading. "Don't go getting all sentimental on me… not now David." You give David a reassuring smile, but to your luck, he doesn't buy it. Now looking at you more seriously he says "Y/N it’s ok. We all understand why you're leaving, no one is mad or angry, just sad you will be missed around here."

You feel your eyes start to water and you quickly turn away from David trying to hide your tears to no avail. "It's just that I’m going to miss this too." He holds your shoulders and turns you to face him. He holds your face, the tears building in his own eyes, and pulls you into a hug.

"You will always be welcome back, you hear me. Now we are both going to stop crying on the count of 3… and were going to pretend that didn't just happen alright." You nod your head slowly agreeing to the terms you collect yourself. What David and you had is the closest thing either of you had to family. He pulled away slowly but determined.

"Okay, no more sad stuff alright… the town wants to throw you a going-away party. And you can't say no they just want to say goodbye." You sigh a smile slowly forming on your face and agree. After all, it had been two wonderful years in which you found yourself.

You are interrupted when you hear a knock at the door. It was rather startling but you've grown used to it by now. Shortly after the loud bangs, you called knocks you hear the door open and close. "How are my two favorite people in the world doing?"

Vivian or Viv for short. "Just peachy" you reply, hearing her laugh at your snarky reply. "I'm in my room and David went out to get things situated for the party."

"Oh well, I just came here to… well you know say goodbye. You are my best friend and I will not forget what you did for me and for my family."

You walk out of your room wearing black jeans and a leather jacket. "You know I would do it again in a heartbeat." Viv hums disapprovingly trying to play it off buy fails. "You see that's exactly what I'm afraid of. You jumped into that building because you didn't care if you did. As heroic as it might seem it was suicidal and we both know it."

You stumble looking for the words " I umm… I was there's no point in lying, but it's not like that anymore." She nods subtlely but you see it in her eyes she's relieved. You take the "out" and change the subject.

"Come on Viv lighten up it's my last night here and we're missing out on my own party." You nudge her and within seconds you get out of your apartment and into the streets that have seen you grow into the person you now are.

The party was more than you deserved… There were home-cooked meals and homemade desserts. People that you have grown to be acquainted with saying goodbye and wishing you luck. You can't help but thank them all sincerely. Once the party is over you head back home with David taking in the last of your stay here.

Once in your apartment you hesitate but end up calling David to your room. "I don't know if you noticed but I never unpacked this box. It was Howard's stuff." David's eyes open showing his surprise. "The Howard… why didn't you open it."

You sigh not knowing exactly why you didn't "Well we're opening it tonight." You make your way to the box and as if you were a wild animal you ravage the package open not realizing how much you actually wanted to open the box.

As you analyze the things in the box your eyes begin to water. There are pictures and mementos of your greatest moments stored in a single place. There's a picture of when you first met Howard you were 11. You chuckle lightly causing David to Burst out laughing. "I umm… I'm sorry but you were one ugly kid." You playfully slap his arm.

"I was, wasn't I. Howard saved me you know in this picture I had just gotten out of the worst foster home I'd ever been in." You'd never said much about your time in the system so David let you talk. "They would hit us, starve us, and some were even sexually assaulted."

David processes what you had just confessed to him realizing that it's probably not even half of what you've been through. "Howard was my saving grace… I was quite the ugly kid inside and out. I was a kid that had no hope in the world, but Howard changed that."

David collects his thoughts and says "I'd say he did a damn good job you brought hope to everyone here… you know kids here aspire to be like you… you are a great role model." You give him a sincere smile and give him a hug.

"David, I'm going to miss you, but it's time for me to go. Never doubt calling me for anything no matter how big or small. And I hope that you and Viv continue the work in the practice. Also, you know that Viv likes you, give her a chance. I don't want either of you to be alone… be alone together. Also she could help you with the rent of the place." Your say laughing. "Now go to bed and we'll leave early tomorrow."

David chuckles while leaving your room. When you hear his door close you continue looking through the things in the box.

Flashback

"Krast come downstairs there's someone here to see you." You jump up startled and cautiously make your way downstairs. You hear part of a conversation but don't invest yourself. You're too frightened when you get to where you heard voices there is a man standing there.

"Ah, you must be the young Y/N Krast. How are you, I'm Howard." You don't reply but rather look at Mr. Evans who nods ever so slightly giving you your cue. "I’m doing well." He's silent for a moment then continues "I hear you're quite the genius." You simply nod. When Mr. Evans decides to cut in rather tactlessly.

"Well, Mr. Howard is here to take you to a new home." You look at him incredulously then turning to Howard and asking him quite bluntly "Are you adopting me?"

Howard simply says "Not exactly, but you will have a family to care for you." The look in his eyes gives you some reassurance. That same afternoon he took you to "your new home."

You quickly find out what he meant by "Not exactly" while you were living in a better home, you were being raised by employees. Howard would come around every week a couple of times. You both enjoyed each other's company and quickly you grew fond of him.

"Y/N hurry up we're going to be late" Howard yelled "Yup im coming, you know if you'd given more than a couple hours heads up id be ready." Howard only chuckles and let that comment slide. You both knew that was a lie.

End Flashback

The morning went by rather quickly. Now you're on the tarmac waiting for your plane to arrive. David was holding your hand while neither of you mentioned it you could not have been more grateful.

"You go and kill em all. Alright I want to see you in a magazine or something. And don't forget to mention me as the greatest inspiration, your daily motivation, and the drive behind you."

You can only chuckle "Those aren't the words I would use to describe you but you are the best." You jug him and wave him off as you board your plane. You cant help but feel guilty as you're currently lying to everyone you care about, but there's no going back now.

#natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #reader x avengers #avengers #tony stark #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #pepper potts #wanda x reader #steve rogers #fanfic #marvel #chapter

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tiesandtea · 3 years

Link

Simon Gilbert

Simon Says

We interviewed Simon Gilbert, Suede’s drummer, whose book So Young: Suede 1991-1993 is a journal and photographic document of the band’s early years that will be published October 8th. So Young has foreword by journalist Stuart Maconie and a vibrant, lively text by Simon himself, documenting his move from Stratford-on-Avon, his hometown, to London, the audition with Suede, life in the van, the early success years and the many amusing things that come with it. It is one of those rare books that make an outsider feel like they were there, in the van. Or in absurd mansions in L.A. belonging to industry types. Or was it record producer(s)?…

The conversation extended to Coming Up, Suede’s third album that turned 25 this year and drumming. Simon’s witty, often, one-liners contrast with my more elaborate questions, proving an interesting insight into our way of writing/replying.

by Raquel Pinheiro

So Young: Suede 1991-1993

What made you want to realease So Young?

I was searching through my archives when researching for the insatiable ones movies and found lots of old negatives and my diaries. They had to be seen.

When and why did you start your Suede archives?

As you can see from the book, it stared from the very first audition day.

From the concept idea to publishing how long did it took you to put So Young together?

30 years … I’ve always wanted to make a book since I was first in a band.

What was your selection process for which items – diary entries, photos, etc.- would be part of the book?

I wanted to form a story visually with a few bits of info thrown in here and there, also most of the photos tie in with pages from the diaries.

Which methods, storage, preservation, maintenance, if at all, do you employ to keep the various materials in your archives in good shape?

Boxes in an attic … one thing about getting the book out is that I don’t have to worry about the photos getting lost forever. It’s out there in a book!

Other than medium what differences existed between selecting material for The Insatiable Ones documentary and for So Young?

Video and photos … photos don’t translate well on a TV screen.

Do you prefer still or motion pictures and why?

I prefer photos … they capture a particular moment in time … as video does, but there’s a unique atmosphere with a photo.

So Young’s cover photo has a very Caravaggio and ballet feeling to it. Its chiaroscuro also contrasts with the images inside. Why did you choose it for the cover?

It was a striking shot and I wanted the book to be black and dark …it fitted perfectly.

How many of the photos on So Young were taken by you?

Probably about 3/4 my 3 school friends who were there with me at the beginning Iain, Kathy and Phillip took a load of us onstage, backstage, after the gig, etc., photos I couldn’t take myself.

So Young can be placed alongside books like Henry Rollins’ Get in The Van and Michael Azerrad’s Our Band Could Be Your Life, that not only chronicle and show the less glamorous, more mundane side of being in a band, but also totally immerse the reader so deep in it that we are there, feeling and going through the same things. Was your selection of materials meant to convey that “band being your(our) life” sensation?

Yes, exactly that. I was fascinated by photos of bands, not on the front cover of a magazine or on TV. The other bits of being in a band are far more interesting.

In the foreword, Stuart Maconie mentions the brevity of your diary entries which, as someone who keeps diaries, I immediately noticed. Do you prefer to tell and record a story and events with images?

I haven’t kept a diary since the end of 1993 … looking back on them they can be a bit cringeful … So, yes, I prefer images.

Contrasting with the diary entries brevity your text that accompanies So Young is lively, witty, detailed and a good description of the struggles of a coming of age, heading towards success, band. Do you think the text and images reveal too much into what it really is like being in a band, destroying the myth a bit?

I think the myth of being in a band is long gone … Reality is the new myth…

In So Young you write that when you first heard Never Mind The Bollocks by The Sex Pistols music was to be your “future dream”. How has the dream been so far?

Still dreaming … lose your dreams and you will lose your mind … like Jagger said.

Is there a reason why So Young only runs from 1991 to 1993?

Yes, I bought a video camera in 1993. It was so much easier filming everything rather than take a photo, wait 3 weeks to get it developed and find out it was blurred.

So Young has a limited deluxe numbered and signed edition already sold out. The non deluxe edition also seems to be heading the same way. How important is it for you to keep a close relationship with the fans?

So important. I love interacting with the fans and is so easy these days … I had to write replies by hand and post them out in 1993…

Playing Live Again & Coming Up

Before Suede’s concert at Qstock Festival in Oulu, Finland on 31.07.2021 you wrote on your social media “cant fucking wait dosnt come close!!!!!” and Mat [Osman, Suede’s bassist] on his “An honest-to-goodness rehearsal for an honest-to-goodness show. Finally”. How did it feel like going back to play live?

It was great. Heathrow was empty which was amazing. A bit strange to play for the first time after 2 years …., but great to get out again.

Coming Up was released 25 years ago. How does the record sound and seems to you now compared with by then?

I haven’t listened to it for a long time actually … love playing that album live … some great drumming.

Before the release of Coming Up fans and the press were wondering if Suede would be able to pull it off. What was your reaction when you first heard the new songs and realize the album was going in quite a different direction than Dog Man Star?

Far too long ago to remember.

Coming Up become a classic album. It even has its own Classical Albums documentary. Could you see the album becoming a classic by then?

I think so yes .. there was always something to me very special about that album.

Is it different to play Coming Up songs after Suede’s return? Is there a special approach to concerts in which a single album is played?

No … didn’t even need to listen to the songs before we first rehearsed … They’re lodged in my brain.

Which is your Coming Up era favourite song as a listener and which one do you prefer as a drummer?

The Chemistry Between Us.

Will the Coming Up shows consist only of the album or will B-sides be played as well?

Definitely some B-sides and some other stuff too.

Simon & Drumming

If you weren’t a drummer how would your version of “being the bloke singing at the front” be like?

Damned awful … I auditioned as a singer once, before I started drumming … It was awful!

In his book Stephen Morris says that all it takes to be a drummer is a flat surface and know how to count. Do you agree?

No.

Then, what makes a good drummer?

Being in the right band.

Topper Headon of the Clash is one of your role models. Who are the others?

He is, yes … fantastic drummer.

Charlie Watts is the other great …and Rat Scabies … superb.

She opens with drums so does Introducing the band. Your drumming gives the band a distinctive sound. How integral to Suede’s sound are the drums?

Well, what can I say … VERY!

Do you prefer songs that are driven by the drums or songs in which the drums are more in the background?

Bit of both actually … I love in your face stuff like She, Filmstar …, but ikewise, playing softer stuff is very satisfying too.

You’re not a songwriter. How much freedom and input do you have regarding drum parts?

If the songs needs it, I’ll change it.

Do you prefer blankets, towels or a pillow inside the bass drum?

Pillows.

Do you use gaffer tape when recording? If so, just on the snare drum or also on the toms? What about live?

Lots of the stuff … gaffer tape has been my friend both live and in the studio for 30 years.

What is the depth of your standard snare drum and why?

Just got a lovely 7-inch Bog wood snare from Repercussion Drums … sounds amazing. It is a 5000 year old Bog wood snare.

Standard, mallets, rods or brushes?

Standard. I hate mallets and rods are always breaking after one song. Brushes are the worst …no control.

How many drum kits have you owned? Of those, which is your favourite?

5 … my fave is my DW purple.

How long to you manage without playing? Do you play air drums?

7 years 2003 – 2010 … and never.

Can you still assemble and tune your drum kit?

Assemble, yes …tune no …have never been any good at that.

You dislike digital/electronic drum kits, but used one during the pandemic. Did you become more found of them?

Still hate them … unfortunately, they are a necessary evil.

When you first joined Suede you replaced a drum machine. Would it be fair to say you didn’t mind taking its job?

Fuck him!

Brett [Anderson, Suede’s singer] as described the new album as “nasty, brutish and short”. How does that translates drums wise?

Very nasty brutish and short.

When researching for the interview I come across the statement below on a forum: “If you’re in a band and you’re thinking about how to go about this, get every player to come up with their own track list & have a listening party. I’ve done this, not only is it great fun, it’s also massively insightful when it comes to finding out what actually is going on inside the drummer’s head!”. What actually is going on inside the drummer’s head?

Where’s my fucking lighter!

And what is going on inside the drummer as a documentarist head? How does Simon, the drummer, differs from Simon, the keen observer of his own band, bandmates, fans, himself, etc.?

There is no difference … I’m Simon here there and everywhere…

What would the 16 years old Simon who come to London think of current Simon? What advice would you give to your younger self?

Don’t smoke so much you fool!

#simon gilbert #suede #so young book

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itsallmightbitch · 4 years

Text

Stitches (Part Two)

Ya’ll, I wasn’t planning on posting this yet but when I actually checked, I realised that if I didn’t- Part Two was going to be over 12,000 words. So I had to split it again. So, you can look forward to a Part Three! I also, sort of, accidentally maybe, wrote a teeny tiny lil’ bit of plot.

Tagged: @kittygonyan @mrsreina (If you’d like to be tagged in Part Three, give me a shout!)

Pairing: Villain!AllMight x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Blood, Swearing, Threats of Non-Con (Not made by our boy All Might and not said explicitly though).

Word Count: 6800+

Summary: A phone call makes you question just how the biggest bad in Japan feels about you. You discover just how All Might was injured and things get just a lil’ bit steamy.

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He was gone for over half an hour and you’d spent that time preparing the dressings you’d need for him. The wound was in a semi awkward place- just below the dip of his collarbone, so you’d had to dig out the gauze tape.

All the while, you attempted to calm the rapid, dizzying beat of your heart.

Those damn breathing exercises that Ivy had taught you were doing jack shit, especially with the feeling of his hands still imprinted firmly on your hips.

Were you really going to do this tonight?

It wasn’t as though you hadn’t danced around him for months now, the unyielding pull of his orbit spinning you closer and closer until the inevitable collision. But as you stood on the precipice, feet towing the line and looking into the abyss… there was still some trepidation.

Was he just doing this to prove that he could get into your pants?

Where the hell would it even go? He was, at his core, a villain and nothing you could do or say would ever change his nature.

Not that you would want to. You weren’t here to ‘fix’ him in any other way but physically.

Yet, despite all of the reservations that swam in your head, you couldn’t deny the chemistry that had always bubbled between you. Especially in those moments that you forgot just who he was and he was just idling around your apartment with you. Those moments made you just as hot as when you saw him pummelling some wannabe hero on TV.

Making him coffee while he fixed your kitchen sink. Actually… finding out that he could fix a kitchen sink had been jarring enough. Bickering over which movie to watch, when you knew he was going to win like he always did- but arguing with him for the fun of it anyway.

That day you’d found out that he did a fucking wicked impression of Endeavor and you’d howled with laughter- then caught him looking immensely proud of himself afterwards.

Even now, the memory of it made your lips quirk in a stupid smile.

Seeing that side of him made it so easy to separate him from the man the rest of the world saw. They weren’t privy to all the things that made him unique. Would it really be so wrong of you to give in?

The filthy promise he’d made still rang in your ears.

Slow, hard and all night long. Your thighs clenched in anticipation.

Your phone buzzed cheerily on the side table and the coffee you’d made for yourself in his absence sloshed against the side of the mug when you jumped.

An unknown number usually meant one of two things. Either All Might was calling you to ask how to perform some horrible mutilation on a person without them losing too much blood- or Ivy was calling for a chat.

Since the former was currently using up all of your hot water- seriously, thirty five minutes now- you correctly guessed that it was the latter. You answered, immediately perking up at the sound of her voice.

“Babes, is that beefy idiot of yours there? His little henchmen have been tearing apart half of the city trying to find him,” she said, not even bothering with hello. You tutted. Of course he’d just up and vanished without giving anyone a hint that he was okay.

“Hi Ivy,” you said pointedly and you could almost hear her roll her eyes at your insistence of politeness. “Yeah, he’s here.”

She grumbled.

“Ugh, will you please tell him to call off his goons before I have to kill any more of them for disrespecting me,” she said, like murdering henchmen was all too taxing for her. You knew differently. She was probably enjoying the change of pace. You half smiled, shaking your head.

What exactly was your life? Passing messages between villains like some kind of sentient answering machine.

“Hold on. He’s in the shower,” you said, escaping the soft light of the living room and heading in the direction of the still -goddamn it- running water. His clothes were piled where you’d told him to leave them and you were oddly touched to find that he’d arranged them in a way that the bloodied parts weren’t on your carpet.

He could be considerate when he wanted to be.

Biting your lip, you eventually worked up the courage and knocked on the door. You knew that he was grinning from ear to ear, probably expecting you to barge in and simply toss your panties over your shoulder while you were at it.

Hmm. There was plenty of time for that later.

“Did you miss me already, sweet thing? Am I that irresistible?” he said, his tone all deep and buttery and the image of him stark naked and soaking wet stole your voice for a moment. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was taking so long because he was- taking care of himself.

Your stomach whirled pleasantly at the thought of him stroking a hand along his thick-

“Hey! Don’t forget to tell him that they have like, zero manners. I’m appalled at how rude they all are. This is no way to treat a lady!”

Ivy’s irritated voice turned away from the phone for a moment. A crunch and a half-halted scream told you that she was more than handling herself against All Might’s minions.

You licked your bottom lip, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to picture him behind the damn door again. Otherwise you’d never get out the words you needed to say. You’d get your chance to join him later, when your dumb obligation as his doctor wasn’t coming first.

“Um, Ivy says your little minions are out of control again. You might want to deal with that, big guy,” you informed him and you heard him swear loudly, a colourful mix of words that would have made a sailor blush.

The water, at long last, shut off.

You hadn’t really considered what would come next, despite the fact that he’d clearly left his pants- and by extension- phone right next to where you were standing.

The door opened and you suddenly had a face full of muscular, soaking wet chest. You barely even noticed his smug expression, too busy trailing your eyes down and focusing with laser like precision on the trail of blond hair that started at his bellybutton and vanished underneath his towel.

All Might had a fucking happy trail. How had you not noticed it earlier?

Oh yeah. All the blood.

You had died. You were dead and buried and this was Heaven and of course your version of Heaven would have a soaking wet, naked super villain in it.

Every brain function ceased and all you could register was the heat of the steam billowing out from behind him and the aching urge you now felt to catch the lone water droplet that was rolling down along his abdomen with your tongue.

It dipped into his bellybutton then out again, before soaking into the towel that he’d slung low around his hips.

“You know, as much as I’m enjoying your reaction sweetheart,” he rumbled, openly amused by your gaping, idiotic staring. “I do need my phone before I lose any more men to the sewer rat.”

“I fucking heard that, you jackass!” Ivy screeched and you were brought back to reality, aware that your face was now glowing red.

He leaned down past you and fished his phone from his pants pocket and you could feel the sweet, water warmed heat of his skin as he passed so close to you. You resisted the urge you suddenly felt to throw your legs over your head.

You didn’t even know if your legs could do that and Ivy might not appreciate having to wait any longer for a reprieve.

When he straightened up, he grinned at you and it was… different than his usual cocky smiles. This one was toothy and almost soft and his free hand came up to your chin, gripping it much like he had earlier. Except this time, it wasn’t to threaten you.

It was to bring your lips to his in a nipping, hard kiss that took the air out of your lungs.

Hnnng.

“Soon kitten,” he murmured, biting your bottom lip once more playfully. “Don’t forget, this was your bright idea.”

He winked at you before retreating back into the bathroom. You remained standing on the other side of the door for a long moment, cursing yourself for being so worried about him when you could be splayed out underneath him right now- morals be damned.

You only remembered that Ivy was still on the line when you heard her voice asking if everything was okay.

Fuck, it was more than okay. Not long from now, you were going to have that between your legs. More than ever you wished you hadn’t skipped all those yoga classes because this was going to be... challenging.

Said legs carried you shakily back down the hall and away from the temptation to break the door down while you waved your bra over your head.

Sexy.

“He’s um- he’s calling someone now,” you cleared your throat, choosing not to sit on your bloodied couch and instead canting your hip against your dining table. “Sorry Ives. If I’d have known he was AWOL I’d have made him call sooner. I know what those idiots are like…”

His henchmen were notorious for running riot without him there to rein them in. He was, surprisingly, like seventy three percent of their impulse control. It was a shame he lacked any himself.

“You know, I’m not even surprised any more,” she tutted. “He could have at least let one of his lackey’s know before he went and squared up against- wait-” Her voice paused just as she reached the bloody good bit and you fought the urge to interrupt. “Maybe he’s been too busy to phone anyone… Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to?”

Ivy knew what had gone down tonight by the sound of it. But she was also distracted and you knew you would get nowhere without indulging her curiosity first.

“Oh yeah, he’s been super busy getting a big ass gash on his shoulder stitched up. Not much time for phone calls,” you hedged slyly. Ivy didn’t need to know he’d also been busy with his mouth on your neck while you attempted not to moan like a a porn star. Definitely a detail that could be left out.

“Not going to lie sweets, I was convinced you were going to say getting a blowjob.”

“Fucking hell, Ivy.”

“What!? There’s nothing wrong with getting busy after a life threatening situation. I’m amazed that you both have so much restraint,” she said and despite your irritation over these villains all up in your personal life, you couldn’t find it in yourself to disagree with her out loud. “You said he was all sliced up? Did he tell you how he got it?”

Interest?

Piqued.

“No! He’s being really secretive about it,” you said hurriedly as though Ivy would hang up on you at any second. She wouldn’t but you were far too eager to hear this story and your brain refused to function normally. “Do you know?”

“I’m not technically supposed to, but well… henchmen talk darling, especially under the threat of pain…”

“Ivy spill,” you said, dragging the word out into a whine. Ivy loved to tell a tale but you were impatient now. You wanted to hear what had happened before he came out of the shower. Not just because you didn’t want him to catch you snooping in his business but also because there was the promise of fantastic sex to come too.

“Oh sweets, do I have a story for you,” Ivy squealed gleefully. Your heart beat hard in your chest in anticipation and you hoped that she wouldn’t drag it out too much. “I hope you’re sitting down for this because it’s just, mwah-” she made a kissing noise and you snorted.

“Ivy, come on. While I’m still young.”

“Tut tut, there’s no rushing a good thing. Or do you like it fast?” she teased, flirtatiously.

You rolled your eyes and tutted into the phone, not in the mood to be teased. At least… not by Ivy.

You checked over your shoulder- in case All Might had snuck up on you or was lurking in the doorway. He had a habit of doing that, just to make you jump. But he was nowhere to be seen, probably still on the phone, berating one of his second in command for their bad behaviour.

You hoped it was Shigaraki getting a talking to. That guy gave you nothing but bad vibes.

“So, I take it you remember last week, when you and I dished about that weirdo you treated? You know Hinata Cash?” she said his name almost cautiously as if worried that being too quick would bring back the memories before you would be able to handle them.

You made a strangled noise that could have been agreement as your brief but memorable encounter with Hinata Cash came rushing back from the deep, dark part of your memories that you’d shoved it into.

A chill raced along your spine.

“Are you okay, sweets?” Ivy asked cautiously.

“M’fine,” you said, clearing your throat. You wouldn’t let the mere mention of the creep make you uncomfortable. Ivy still paused until you reaffirmed that you were okay with talking about him though. “What about him? Is he still being a disturbing son of a bitch?”

Your bravado was all show. You both knew it, but Ivy continued like she bought into your act.

“Well, it turns out he was quite the talking point in some circles... Not enough to play with the big boys like your honey bun,” she said, probably giving the phone a shit eating grin. You didn’t even berate her for it and the teasing tone she’d aimed for fell away awkwardly. “But he was doing enough to get himself noticed. He’d started coming in to the Golden Cat on weekends. A few of the girls there told me about him…”

“All good things, I bet,” you said, rubbing your arm nervously. There was really no reason to feel nervous, not with your door locked and All Might in your bathroom, but that didn’t stop tendrils of unease winding around your neck.

“He started going by Scissorhands- Ugh, it was tacky if you ask me,” she sniffed primly. Never let anyone tell you that Ivy wasn’t a class act, you thought fondly. Still, the name made your insides twist uncomfortably. From what you’d seen on the snippets of news reports that day- he’d certainly lived up to his chosen name.

You had never been truly frightened in all the years that you’d been treating criminals. Even during that first meeting with All Might, you had never felt like you were in any immediate danger- so long as you kept your mouth shut and remained respectful.

But Cash…

He was the type to cut your throat because he didn’t like the colour of your curtains or some shit.

His entire visit had deeply unsettled you and set you on edge for days afterwards. Even now, despite the fact that he hadn’t delivered on his ‘promise’, you couldn’t really settle.

Every movement he’d made that day, every little twitch of his hands had caused your body to recoil and had it not been for the tight hold you had over your Quirk, you might have done more harm than good.

Thankfully, it had been a straight forward procedure but from the way your body trembled, you’d have thought it was your very first time all over again. He’d picked up on your nerves from the moment he’d sat down, leering whenever you flinched.

Glass and debris had become embedded directly under his left eye from the bank robbery he’d partaken in, just hours before. It had been on the Channel Five news, which was partly why you were so on edge. His fingers had still been bloody from the security guard he’d literally torn apart.

Heavy set, with wide shoulders and contrasting sharp features, you knew that had he made a move that day, you wouldn’t have had a chance to fight him off.

The shaking of your hands had thankfully been negated by your Quirk.

Precision wasn’t the most amazing Quirk in the world but it was particularly useful in your line of work. Being able to hit your target despite the shaking of your hands had saved you precious time.

Quick, yet terrified, you’d cleaned up his face and as politely as you could, tried to see him out. But his hand had clamped down on your thigh, too high for comfort and your whole body froze- your eyes staring unseeingly past him.

You couldn’t breathe in anything more than quick, frightened gasps. He seemed to revel in them.

You felt like a rabbit in the jaws of a wolf, seconds before the deadly bite.

He’d leaned in close, his breath repulsive and sour and you’d thought of a million ways to escape in those few seconds- none of them even remotely useful.

“I really appreciate this, Doc. It’s hard to find a woman with steady hands like yours...”

He had lifted one of them, examining it.

“Wonderful quirk. So useful... I can see why All Might likes you so much. I think I quite like you too.”

You had prepared for the worst. Mentally written your last will and testament and prayed to God that when he was finished with you he would just leave Marco be- the thought of him harming your cat suddenly far more prevalent in your mind than what was going to happen to you.

Strangely though, he’d simply gotten up from the chair, stroked your cheek as you sat there like a statue and then let himself out. Not before throwing his parting remark over his shoulder, though. The one that had been haunting you all week.

“I’ll see you again real soon, honey.”

Naturally, you hadn’t gone after him for the payment he’d skimped out on.

Hell to the no. Instead, you’d locked your front door, hyperventilated for a good fifteen minutes on your living room floor and then much to your embarrassment… you’d called All Might.

For the first time ever.

You had passed the call off as some dumb suggestion that he come over for pizza and a movie, like you were best friends and not potential-fuck-buddies. You hadn’t even had the strength to hide the tremble in your voice, nor the will to throw in any bravado. It had been a brutally honest call- one that you had never wanted to make.

It was like letting him see the real you. Removing that final barrier between you that might hold you back from feeling anything real. That conversation had changed something, you thought. Something deep.

“H-Hey! I know I never call like this but... I-I… Could you come over?”

Your voice had been small and shaky, with you on the verge of tears- even though you would rather die than let them fall over someone so vile.

There had been a pause on the other end, mid-way through whatever sarcastic thing he’d been about to berate you with.

“Please?”

You had added that without even thinking about it, voice catching and the grip of Cash’s hand still burning on your thigh. You had thought, in that silence, that he was going to brush you off. Either that or demand to know what was wrong. Thankfully, he did neither.

“Ten minutes.”

The longest ten minutes of your life. He had found you pacing a hole in the floor of your living room and petting the ever-loving bejesus out of Marco- stressed to the max. You’d locked eyes with him and he hadn’t even had to ask if you were glad to see him. Your face said it all.

He hadn’t asked what had happened and you hadn’t told him… but he’d stayed anyway. A real villain, that one.

“Sounds about right to me,” you scoffed, tone disgusted at the thought of that… that man. “Ives, I don’t scare easily, you know that... but I know full well what he wanted and it wasn’t a back rub. What does this have to do with why All Might turned up injured?”

You felt unsettled at having him brought up out of the blue. You’d been quite happy to forget all about him and the way that his gaze had made your skin crawl.

“Everything. The word should be getting out any minute now, about our dear departed Tim Burton knockoff.”

You paused, startled and unsure if you’d heard her right.

“Departed?”

“Oh, he’s very, very dead darling,” Ivy said lightly, as if she was just telling you the weather for the day.

The relief that washed over you was momentous and almost made your knees give way, causing you to grip the table for support. He was dead. You were free of the lurking shadow of fear that plagued your days and nights. The one that robbed you of decent sleep because you were jumping at every little noise in your apartment.

“Is it bad that I just wanna say ‘Oh thank God’?” you replied, breath knocked from you. Ivy laughed. She sounded just as pleased as you felt.

“You won’t be the only one, I’m sure. He must have put up a halfway decent fight, if it took you that long to stitch up a little old cut,” she said, pointedly as though waiting for you to work things out. She was probably disappointed that she didn’t get to see your reaction when you did.

Oh. Holy shit.

“All Might killed him!?” you squeaked, then lowered your voice drastically in case he heard you. “Are you fucking with me right now, Ivy? Because that’s not cool.”

You didn’t really know how to feel about it, if it was true. You were more than relieved that the looming shadow of Cash was gone forever but regretful that somehow, All Might had found out what you’d tried to keep from him and had gotten himself hurt in the process of doing something about it.

“It’s true,” she said, confirming it. “You and I both know I hate giving that overrated blowhard any credit… but something had to be done about him. Cash had it coming, either way. There are plenty of girls at the Golden Cat who’ll be glad to see him gone.”

You swallowed hard. Your silence was more you being concerned over All Might’s well being than over the fact that he had killed a man tonight. He’d killed plenty of people in the time you’d known him.

That wasn’t about to destroy the image of him that you had.

It was more the deep seated worry that always gripped you when he was involved in something dangerous. Usually, you could worry yourself sick over the news broadcast and at least then, if anything happened, you would know.

But tonight, he’d gone out there and gone one on one with a man who could rip people apart from the inside out- and you hadn’t even known. What if he’d never come back? What if he’d died because of you and word would get back to you, weeks down the line that you would never see him again?

Something horrid lodged in your stomach.

“Won’t he get heat from other villains?” you asked to distract yourself, rubbing the top of Marco’s head as he trotted past- blissfully unaware of your minor breakdown. “Isn’t there some… I dunno… Code of conduct or something? Honour among thieves?”

Ivy snorted, obviously amused at your blatant lack of knowledge. You would think that someone as deep into the criminal underworld as you were would at least know a little about how things operated. But no.

You chose to remain blissfully ignorant.

“Hmm, well here’s the thing. The King makes the rules and All Might, well… as much as I’m loathe to admit it, he wears the crown babes. Who the Hell is going to argue with him?” she asked and you bit your lip, the fear of retaliation lessening.

It was no secret that he was both feared and respected- enough to keep even the toughest of the tough under his thumb. There wasn’t a Hero or Villain in the world who could realistically take him on, one on one, and win.

That thought relaxed you and the horrid sensation lessened. It didn’t leave entirely, but it receded enough that you could breathe again.

“Anyway, to cut a long story short… Cash wasn’t exactly secretive about what he liked to do to girls. He was always running his mouth and tonight, he came in absolutely singing about some pretty little Doctor that he’d fallen head over heels for…” Ivy said sourly, obviously not enjoying this part of the story.

You enjoyed it even less. It didn’t take a genius to work out just who that Doctor was. Your hope that he’d just been trying to scare you when he threatened to see you again had been futile, apparently and you were suddenly so glad that you’d asked All Might to stay that night.

“ You’re pretty well known yourself around here, sweets. Did you know that?”

You hadn’t known, no, but you kept quiet.

“It didn’t take long for a few of the regulars to work out just who Cash was talking about. Word got around like wildfire and eventually got to old Shigaraki himself. From what I’ve heard through the grapevine tonight, it took five and a half minutes from Shigaraki calling his boss, until All Might was storming the Golden Cat.”

Damn, there had been you, badmouthing Shigaraki not ten minutes ago in your head. If it hadn’t been for him telling All Might, who knows what would be happening to you right now?

You made a mental note to be extra nice to him the next time you saw him.

The thought that Cash had been interested in you made you shudder, sickened at the thought of him even thinking about you like that. Your body felt grimy and you resisted the urge to run to the bathroom and scrub yourself clean.

All Might was officially your fucking hero and he could pry that word from your cold, dead hands.

Sure, he would be horrified at the implication but that didn’t make it any less true. Maybe that’s why he’d brushed off your questioning earlier, being difficult when you wanted to know how he’d been injured.

You caught yourself grinning stupidly, attempting to hide it by biting your lip. You realised that there was no point. Ivy couldn’t see you anyway.

“So, I think the message is officially loud and clear. No-one fucks with the good Doctor,” she laughed, all angelic and sweet and you beamed down the phone, laughing along with her. You felt a heady sort of rush as the realisation that you were safe again sunk in. That the villains you had helped and minded and treated like people over the years had heard that you were in danger and had come to the rescue in their own way.

The realisation that… that he cared. Deep down, past his angry and irritable nature, he really cared.

“Ivy, I-”

Without warning, two large, muscular arms wrapped around your waist from behind and you might have jumped had All Might not buried his face into your neck and rumbled a low, lazy growl, like a bear waking up from hibernation. He nuzzled you with a deliberate slowness, lips pressing warm against your throat.

“You still talking to the sewer rat?” he murmured, sounding annoyed because he knew you wouldn’t hang up on her just because he said so- and so he would have to wait as patiently as he could until you were done.

On the other hand, it was an opportunity to rile Ivy up as much as possible.

“It’s Vagabond, you overgrown man child,” she hissed down the line, all previous goodwill towards him gone from her voice.

All Might ignored her, choosing instead to tug you back until you were plastered against his chest and he could lay his kisses along your shoulder- even though he still had to stoop down to reach. How did he even get so tall? Your breath caught in your throat, longing and gratitude fighting for the number one spot.

He wasn’t going to stay patient for much longer and neither were you.

“Listen, I gotta go, Ives. Love you, babes,” you said quickly and she cackled manically, well aware of where you were rushing off to in such a hurry. This was only proving her right. She would be insufferable for weeks now.

“Love you too, sweets! Try not to break anything. Like the building.”

You hung up to the sound of her laughter and turned in All Might’s arms, surprising him when you pulled him down for a kiss. You were long past the point of worrying about morals and right and wrong. There couldn’t be anything wrong in wanting him like you did. In knowing that he protected you and cared about you in his own way- no matter if he never said it out loud.

He broke away, smirking.

“Someone’s eager,” he ground out, hands sweeping up along your sides. His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and you pulled in a shaky, uneven breath. “I bet you’ll be fucking soaking…”

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Those intense eyes trailed over your face, lingering on your lips until he locked his gaze with yours.

“Thank you,” you blurted out, without meaning to.

One of his eyebrows quirked, amused.

“You’re thanking me for making you wet? That’s a new one on me sweetheart but sure. I’ll take the credit where it’s due,” he laughed cockily, one hand on the back of your head as he dove forward again and kissed you roughly. This one was all teeth and tongue and your knees shook, suddenly feeling thankful that he was holding you up.

You moaned softly, powerless but confident under his touch.

There was no pushing him back, no sliding your tongue into his mouth because the man was a force of nature and practically every inch of him was pure muscle. So you were content to let him take what he wanted from you, for now. Later you would find a way to turn the tables- to make him the quivering pathetic mess.

Right now, all you wanted was to find out all of the ways he kissed.

The angry ones, the lust filled ones, the sweet ones. The good morning kisses and the I’m happy to see you kisses and all the fucking kisses in between. You were off to a great start. You sighed, tangling your fingers in his hair and stroking your thumb in a circle on his scalp.

He melted under your touch and deep down you revelled in the fact that he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

“I um,” you stuttered, swallowing hard when you reluctantly pulled away from him. He looked as though he wanted to follow your mouth but for a change he let you speak. “I didn’t mean thank you for- for that.”

“For what?” he asked knowing full well what you meant, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

“For…” Your face heated quickly, without you even realising it.

Without warning, a hand was shoved between your already shaky legs and he pressed upwards, cupping your pussy and dragging a half halting, surprised moan out of your throat. He almost took you off your feet and your fingers wrapped over his biceps to steady yourself.

“For. What?” All Might asked again, applying pressure in all the places you needed pressure applied. Oh you were well and truly fucked and he hadn’t even gotten you naked yet.

“Cause if you’re blushing now, kitten, then I can’t wait to see what you’ll be like when we really get going,” he continued, nuzzling along your cheek and rubbing his palm over your aching pussy. “M’not a mind reader. You have to tell me what you want. Where you want me. How hard you want me to pound into you. I wanna hear you sobbing my name like it’s the last fucking thing you’ll ever say tonight. Think you can do that for me? Hmm?”

You were gripping his arms for dear life, trying to focus on the steady heaving of your lungs. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah, I can do it,” you promised, almost without hearing the words come out of your mouth. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” he purred encouragingly and you just about lost your shit for a few seconds, along with any sense you might have had left as the praising words repeated on a loop in your head. “Now, I’ll ask again. What weren’t you thanking me for?”

He was grinning wickedly against your cheek, eyes boring into yours.

“For making me wet,” you responded finally, when your tongue no longer felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and you remembered how to speak actual words and not just garbled syllables.

He groaned- actually groaned like you were the one touching him, instead of the other way around and it sent a shivering wave of heat spreading out at the base of your spine. Your clit throbbed mercilessly under the heat of his palm.

“Christ kitten,” he said, voice hoarse. He didn’t pull his hand away like you thought he would though. You were still sensitive from your little dry humping session earlier and the pressure he was applying was agonising torture for so many reasons.

You both knew he would pull away though if you even tried to set the pace. He’d made it perfectly clear that he was in charge.

“Now, what were you thanking me for? You’ve got me all curious.”

You felt dizzy and the words didn’t exactly come easily. The heat radiating off of his bare chest was intoxicating and so was the sight of all those well defined, rippling muscles so easily within reach. You indulged yourself, seeing as you hadn’t been able to earlier. You lightly trailed the pads of your fingers over his pectoral muscle and down at a steady pace, over the hardness of his abs and then to the tempting, glorious V shape that led under-

Your smile came unbidden to you and he noticed, knowing immediately what you were grinning like an idiot about. He was wearing the pajama pants you’d gotten him.

They were simple, nondescript pants like any guy would wear but… you’d gotten them in his favourite colour and he’d actually put them on.

You’d expected him to either stay in his towel or well, just get the clothes out of the way entirely.

“Yeah, yeah,” he snorted, releasing you when he realised that he’d gotten your attention in an entirely different way. The loss of sensation between your legs was more than worth it to see him standing there, a little awkwardly, with his arms crossed. “Don’t be a jackass about it, for fuck sake. I just didn’t want to have my dick out when I was eating dinner.”

“Like that would bother you,” you beamed and he grunted something petulant that you didn’t hear.

“You gonna tell me what you’re thanking me for, or what?” he said after a moment, ignoring the obvious erection that was tenting the front of said pants. You found it very, very hard to ignore but dragged your eyes up to his face after a moment anyway. His self assured smirk was expected.

He knew how attractive he was and what it was doing to you. Damn him.

“Cash,” you managed to say after a moment and it clearly didn’t answer his question. He looked at you like you were an idiot.

“You… want cash? Here was me thinking you weren’t a whore,” he cackled, pleased at his own cleverness. You were less amused, punching him lightly in the arm. The shaking of his shoulders didn’t stop but at least he was no longer laughing out loud.

You were trying to spill your heart to the big jerk and he couldn’t stop mocking you for more than five seconds.

“Come on! Stop being a dick,” you scowled, arousal now tainted with annoyance. He rolled his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his slicked back hair, his laughter dying after a moment.

“Alright, alright! Explain yourself, woman,” he swept his hands out, metaphorically giving you the floor.

“Hinata Cash,” you elaborated, expecting the penny to drop. But when he continued to look lost, it slowly dawned on you that he’d never even bothered to learn the guys name. All he’d known was that he was going to do something to hurt you and… that had been enough for him to go on. Your heart thrummed in your chest. “Um, Scissorhands?”

Much like they had earlier, his eyes darkened, flashing a sudden warning that it wasn’t something he wanted to discuss. Unlike earlier though, you ignored it. Answers to your question were just out of reach.

“Why are you bringing up that motherfucker?” he asked gruffly, then swept past you almost dismissively before you could answer. He disappeared into your kitchen, his back to you. Not the reaction you had been expecting. The heated air had vanished- as had the playfulness he’d exuded moments before. “Way to kill a mood, doll.”

You suddenly regretted opening your mouth. He hadn’t told you- and if he hadn’t told you, there had been a reason for it.

“Shit,” you hissed softly to yourself, listening to him stomping around the kitchen behind you.

You turned and followed him, pathetically useless against the part of you that longed to be near him. Besides, there was no taking it back now and you were burning up with curiosity.

Why had he killed Cash? Why had he even bothered himself at all?

Most of all, you wanted- no needed to know.

Had he done it for you?

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

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

#all might x reader #all smite x reader #all smite #all might #bnha #BNHAFF #smut

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storysofmyown · 3 years

Text

Seven stages of love Chapter 7, Epilogue: Philutia

Summary: Ever since the Celestial War, since they all fell, Asmodeus has dedicated himself to his sin. Not caring about anything else, but drowning himself in the pleasure and ecstasy of it all. But not anymore, now he cant even handle the idea of it. But, what else is there to want? After so long of having indulged in his sin, what is there than Asmodeus is looking for, something that will fill him, and that wont drive him to destruction? Perhaps his brothers can help him with that. Warnings will appear in each chapter.

Read on ao3

Word Count: 1818

Trigger Warning: None that I can think of. If you find any feel free to let me know so I can add them!

The house of lamentation was in an absolute uproar. Noises coming from every room in the house. Lucifer had his classical music on an all time high, his own way to shut away the noises that were coming from the kitchen, as Belphegor and Beel attempted to make some horrific concoction that went against Solomon's own cooking. As well as Mammon’s music that was blaring from his room, apparently having entered a context where the louder he listened to music, the more opportunity he had to win, meanwhile Leviathan was showing Satan an anime, the music of the intro being able to be heard through the entire house as it fought with that of his brothers. Except from one demon, who although had been having a messy head, who's words and screams were louder than all the noises in the house, was now oddly quiet. As he smiled at himself in the mirror.

Asmodeus placed the perfume bottle down, picking up the earrings Mammon had given him in exchange for having sold his designer shoes. They were quite pretty, for having been a gift from Mammon. The demon let out chuckle, it was...odd. Being able to look at himself in the mirror once more, gone the feeling disgust. A few days ago, he would have been to the point we're if he caught a glance of himself in the mirror, it would have been broken in a million pieces, accompanied by the blood that would have been pouring from his wounds. But now...now he was once more able to smile at the demon reflected in the mirror. A real smile, not like the ones be had given for so many years in order to fool himself and convince the corroded carcass of a demon to go out into the world.

Now, he was able to see himself. The real Asmodeus, the one that had been locked away from all that pain and all those desires, the one that wasn't controlled by the feeling of lust and the sin that had place a chain around his wrists and a leash on his neck. Finally allowing himself to breath the perfume of roses that lingered in his room, instead of the despair that came from his mind. Now he was ready to go out into the world again. But the world that he wanted to go out to, wasn't the same as the one he thought he needed. And he just hoped they would like the new Asmodeus, along with what he had to say, and how he wanted to say it.

"Asmo?"

Belphegor’s voice made Beel stop mid bite, looking in the direction his brother was. He had just entered the kitchen and was looking at the two with curiosity, not only that but he had adorned himself in the usual clothes he would wear to go out. Although, those were less...loud.

"Hi!" He spoke in his usual cherry tone, making the twins look at each other.

"You look nice." Beel spoke, food still in his mouth before he finished the bite.

"Are you going out?" The youngest leaned against the counter, fluffing the pillow in his hands slightly before his eyes fell on the older brother, who was ravaging the cabinets searching for all kinds of things.

"Nope! I was actually thinking of doing a movie night." The click of the bowl as it was set down on the table, and the crinkling of the bags, made Beel hungry, but aside from that, it attracted some other demon into the kitchen, who had been avoiding finding the eldest all afternoon.

"Yo, y'all cooking something?"

"Mammon! Perfect timing~" The fifth eldest grabbed onto the Avatar of greed's arm, pulling him into the kitchen and proceeding to place the bowl on his hands, already full. "Here, see that Beel doesn't eat them yet." As he spoke, he started taking cups out if the cabinets, and ice from the fridge.

"Oi, hold on. You can't just grab me and pull me like that-, Beel!" Mammon glared at his younger brother, who’s hand was almost already inside the bowl, mumbling an apology as he retracted it. "What are you even doing?"

"He's doing a movie night." Belphegor spoke, although none of the demons in the room knew if he was awake of asleep.

"We are making a movie night! None of you are escaping." Asmo stated, placing the cups, already full, in a tray. "Here, Belphie, you take this to the room. Beel, would you be a dear and search for some more food? We know it won't be nearly enough for all of us. I'll go get the others! You three wait for me in the living room~"

After searching through his home for the remaining of his brothers, two of them being more reluctant to participate, as he had expected. He and Lucifer went to the twin’s room and came back with an array of pillows and blankets to get comfortable all over the floor, at which Levi complained, only to be quickly shut up as they reminded him the position he took to play. Asmo finally managed to get all of them into the living room just in time to catch Beel almost eating from the bowl he had entrusted Mammon to protect. After a couple of more complaints, and a silent glare from Lucifer, Asmodeus finally managed to have all his brothers sit down.

"...ok, so you have us all here. Now what?" Leviathan asked, a little annoyed at having had his game taken away from him, just when he was about to beat a hard level.

"Now, we obviously watch a movie, dummy~" Asmo spoke from his position as he set up a DVD player, making Satan frown.

"I didn't know we still owned one of those."

"Hold on, isnt that-"

"Yes, Levi, this is yours. I think you saved it a long time ago in the attic." Asmo said, turning the device on and place a DVD inside the player, quickly hooking it up to the tv and sitting between him brothers, shoving Belphie to the side, effectively waking him up. "Now, get cozy, we are spending the whole night together~" he chuckles, only for some of his brothers to groan, although, none of them tried to get away from him and just smiled as the movie started.

It had been a few hours, and the known Avatar of Lust, along with the rest of his family, had went on to go on with their movie night. Well, movie night was to put it highly, in fact, they were watching some videos. This was what the Avatar of Lust truly wanted to do, spend time with his family, as he remembered how important they were. Videos from all the years they had spent together. Recorded in old cameras that at the time where the best technology possible. Old phones and pictures, them all sharing their own thoughts and stories behind all the images that flashed by. At first, they all seemed to be surprised that those were the 'movies' Asmodeus was referring too. But after a while, they grew fond of the idea, basking in the old memories and even sharing even older ones from the time they fell and fond times they remembered from the celestial realm, telling Satan all about them. Although, a certain older demon noticed how the young Avatar or Lust got slightly increasingly nervous each time it moved to another section. Until it got to a video, the quality as of the D.D. D’s they used now, and it showed Asmo, in his room, alone.

"...uh, hi?" The Asmo in the video spoke. By his state, they all could tell he had been obviously tired when recording this. "So, I'm...making this to put my thoughts in order, I guess?" He looked directly into the camera. "...but as I pressed the button I realized that...all I have in mind and all that I truly want to say is...thank you..."

The audio paused for a moment, an obvious distressed Asmo taking a moment to collect himself, the brothers all looked at the Asmodeus that was currently sitting between them all. Wide eyes in shock. The demon could feel the eyes on him, making a light pink come to his cheeks as he watched himself in the video. A slight feeling of shame, no, perhaps embarrassment at having decided to approach the situation in such a way.

“Asmo what is-” Lucifer was cut off by the video finishing, the screen turning dark. All brothers looking confused at Asmodeus, who could barely muster the courage to look at any of them, so, instead, he kept his sight glued to the floor, before speaking.

“I know…I have been difficult lately, and that you all have had a hard time dealing with me and…and all my questions. But…after speaking with every single one of you…” A small smile comes to his lips as he remembered the conversations, and what they had meant to him. They way they had opened his eyes to the world he had been missing, and to the one he had submerged himself in so deep there was no light anymore. “…I realized what it is that I was lacking. So, thank you, my dear brothers and…”

He pauses again, letting the silent set in his words to his brothers. It had been a long journey. And at first, he had felt so lost…like there was no way he could ever truly understand what was missing, or where to even beginning searching. But thanks to his brothers, and without even realizing it, he had been actually searching what it was missing. And he now understands. He understood better than anything else, better than even his own sin and his own mind and buddy, that the answer for what he needed laid right inside of the house of lamentation. Within himself, and one of the few ways he could start learning and reconnecting with who he was, was right around him.

With his family. With his big, stupid, loud, noisy family. The one that had watched him crumble and instead of mocking him had helped him get back up slowly. And now he was taking the first step after having been rebuilt slowly, the first step of the journey he had yet to complete. But that he wasn’t worried about, because he had his family. And to grasp and fully understand the thing he needed; the Avatar of Lust wouldn’t need to go anymore. And for him that was more than okay, because that meant he could stay close to those who had helped him trough it all. To those who would keep helping him. And to the six demons he only had one thing to say, and it the same thing he had to say to himself.

“I love you all”

Philutia: Self love

******

Hi, well, here we are, at the end. I am honestly surprised I managed to finish this in time, but hey, here it is! I really, really hope you all had enjoyed this fan fiction as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I guess I will see you all on my next fic obey me fic XD

Take care!

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slashingdisneypasta · 3 years

Text

Classic Heavy x OnPeriod!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Period Horniness Mixed With Boredom and a Busy Boyfriend?

Notes:

Please let me know if I haven't used AFAB correctly! I just didn't want to back y’all into too small a corner. So, this is meant to be ‘Reader who gets periods’. Could be a cis female, transitioning trans female, gender-neutral or agender person with a vagina, etc. Just, provided you have a vagina.

I know he isn't on the list but I wanted to try someone new! I don't play TF2 but I’ve read what there is of the comics! I loved them! ^^

Plot: So...

You decided that it was a good idea to sext Chevy.

Warnings: SMUT (Penis in Vagina). Period sex (He licks it once but that’s it in the way of blood to mouth), dirty talk, Daddy kink, dirty names, etc. *Cough* Creampie also. Lets hope videogame characters cant procreate or contract STD’s. I meant for it to be nasty smut, but due to my lack of experience and fluff brain I dunno if it actually is 😅 So beware.

~~~

As you are bored out of your mind and reading smuts (Dean Winchester. Beetlejuice. Herman Carter. Oh boy), causing your libido to get even more aggressive in your current hormonal state, you shrink down further into the couch cushions and groan from pain.

Not from cramps; You don’t get them as bad as others anymore, thank god (And besides, you have a hot water bottle underwear your shirt and the top of your sweats), but from the fact that your very huge, very hot and very lusty boyfriend is stuck in a meeting elsewhere!! Pouting, you drop your phone onto your chest and drop your head to the side, staring at the ceiling.

You sigh.

Ross, on the other couch across from you, rolls his head to the side and puts down his magazine to raise his bushy brows at you. “What is yer problem??”

“Hm,” You sigh again. “Nothing... “

As Ross looks back at his Lifestyle you get an idea, a cheeky smile slowly skidding across your lips as you peak down at your phone on your chest. Ooooh... Snatching up the phone, you open up Chevy’s message tab and start tapping out a text. “Heheh... “

You: Hey Chev. If you could do anything to me and I h a d to say yes, what would you do?

Then quickly you turn off the phone and set it back in its place screen down on your chest. You wonder, what would he say if he responded? What would you really agree to?

... actually lets not wonder that. We may scare ourselves. Lets just say; Much.

A few minutes later your phone buzzes and you take a moment, calming your nerves and your excitement before you pick it up and open the messages again.

Chevy: Ohhh, I wouldn’t go there sweet bottom. Very, very busy right now.

Chewing on your thumb nail, you grin broadly at the screen and wonder even more what he’s thinking.

You: What should I do while I wait for you then? If you’re so busy I’ll be so wet when you get here...

You: Already am pretty soaked actually. I tried to handle it myself. . .

Okay, this is the great thing about Chevy, realise. You can say whatever you like, sex-wise, and you wont ever be embarrassed. Because you know he’s always up to fuck, and he’s usually thinking about it first.

Chevy: Oh, are you just teasing me or are you gonna send proof? This is a dangerous game your playing princess/prince.

Oh dear. You cant send proof! How can you deflect this? “Ahh... “ Thinking as you look around the room, muttering in a panic ‘Um. Um. Um. Um-’, “OH!” You hop up from the couch and duck behind it, pull the front of your shirt forward and quickly snap a picture of your chest, before fixing your clothes and jumping back onto the couch, laying on your back again. Cheeks rosy from the adrenaline. Ross looks confused at you, nose scrunched up and beard askew, but you just waive him off and send the picture. You don’t type anything this time.

“Squirrely... “ Ross mutters in annoyance, shaking his head back at his reading material.

Your phone buzzes again and you try to keep a straight face as you read the block of text, and watch the attachment, the bottom half of your face hidden comfortably behind the collar of your shirt to hide your frazzled-ness.

Chevy: Baby, you know that’s not what I meant... But look what its done to me. Devil person.

*Chevy Attached: A video of his lap shifting, and there’s a slight bulge in his black pants.

Eyes wide at the video he must’ve taken on the sly under the table, of his gently growing prominence, as he shifts to get more comfortable with it. Its just enough movement for you to imagine it thrusting onto your aching section and it makes you hide even more of your face under your shirt. “Jesus... “ This may have been a bad idea.

Bad I cant stop.

You: I love that

Chevy: I know

*Chevy Attached: A picture of his grinning face from below, looking off assumedly to the slideshow or whatever they’re being shown in that meeting.

Why is that cocky, mischievous look on his face, which some (Including yourself sometimes) would call an asshole look, hotter then the outline of his huge, ever loving cock?? It just doesn't add up!

This is becoming a cruel, and unusual form of torture. You’ve never tried sexting before today, and you regret it.

Ohhh, god. You wish he was here! Closing your eyes for a moment and furrowing your eyebrows from frustration and longing, you shamelessly imagine how Chev would lead you to the nearest empty room with a door (Any room. Laundry? Kitchen? Your room? His? Someone else's?? It wouldn’t matter to him, and by the time he got your favourite weapon of his out you wouldn't either. At least, that’s the way things were the last time you checked.) push your body against the wall and thrust his cock deep into you as he plays torturously with your front with his huge hands...

And it wouldn't be hard. You’re already totally slick, with blood and slick.

Oh, god. You love that he’s there for period sex.

As you imagined, you had let your head fall to the side slowly relaxing. And, as you imagined further, fantasising about your orgasm building up and feeling your pussy ache for pressure in real life you start to hear h e a v y footsteps coming towards this room in the hall.

Just as you realise that your knight in shining cargo has come you snap your eyes open and there that man is, standing behind the couch above you, jaw taught. You cant see his lower section due to the back of the couch obscuring your view but a broad grin rips across your lips anyway at the speediness of his arrival and the forcefulness - in other words, desperation, - in his face. You immediately, kind of hilariously, yank out the hot water bottle from your clothes. “Well, hi there!- Oh,”

He just leans down, fixes his ginormous, manly hands around your waist and plucks you off the couch with ease, literally throwing you over his shoulder - your ass by his head, - and starts walking with just as much force as he came towards the exit. Oh, here we go...

Your pussy sings at the pressure of his broad shoulder pressing against it, and bumping against it as he walks, and you would be embarrassed by that but instead you just promise it that its going to get its real treat, real soon.

“Baby girl/boy, you’ve been a real, desperate, whore.” Cheavy growls out as he finds a room and turns on his heel, getting you both inside and kicking the door hard closed. You take that as a sign of how hard he’s about to fuck you, tingling with excitement. He lifts you off his shoulder and plops you down on the washing machine - or dryer? You don’t know. You just know its on, and its sending delicious vibrations through your core, - making you moan at the sudden, total attention to your cunt. But you’re also occupied sitting still, caught in his stern, smirking expression. “I really shouldn't reward you for behaviour like that, kid.”

Knitting your eyebrows together and shifting forward on the machine, opening your legs so he can nestle himself between them and running your hands around his neck so you can guide him forward you whine. Simping. “You don’t want to leave either, though, do you... ?” You smirk slyly.

“Right.” He smirks back, even more mischievously then you. It makes you wonder, and your pussy yearn. “That’s why I’m doing this for me.” One of those hands, your favourite hands in the entire world (Well apart from that of those who fight for minorities rights every day *Sit com wink into the camera*. ) moves between the two and latches onto your mound, making you jolt forwards into it as he cups and massages it. His hand perfectly cups it, too. Palm big enough to press against the lips, thumb strong enough at the top to rub up and down the top and the rest of his fingers just warm it all up. “Are you gonna be an obedient, disgusting little cock sleeve?” Caught in his gaze, and almost too turned on to respond, you stay still for a moment, thighs just clamping around his hand.

Almost.

Quickly, when he stops his movements on your core you nod fervently. “Yes! Yes, I am.”

“Hmmm?” He tilts his head, looking down as he unbuttons your jeans and makes your breath hitch as dips a thick finger past your underwear, into you and immediately takes it up again to his lips to taste, smirking at your stupefied expression. Blood... he just... tasted... your... He does this every time you two engage in period sex, just to see this reaction from you but you never get used to it. How does he do it?? “What do you call me when I fuck you, Y/N?”

You break yourself out of the moment, getting back to reality. “D-Daddy. Sorry. Sorry, Daddy... “

“That’s right, baby doll. I’m your Daddy, and you are... ?”

“Your amenable, disgusting little whore.” You respond obediently, like a student... yeah. A student right out of a porn video.

“Correct, now... Undo my pants now, wild cat. Somethings just begging for your aching, pretty cunt.” All too happy to do so, your hands dive down - well, not without feeling his chest up on your way down which is made so much easier as he’s just wearing a normal t-shirt instead of chest armour, - and wolfishly unzip and push down his trousers, revealing a fully, entirely enlarged and throbbing penis hidden behind worn cotton boxers. You chew on your lips as you go to pull down those, too, but Chevy chuckles and and gathers your eager hands in one his, reclaiming control that he never really lost. “Oh, not yet. I told you this was for me, didn't I?- “

“When are our carnal relations ever any different, Chev?” You ask, scrunching up your nose cheekily. Then, “Ah,”, remembering your place for the moment, you correct yourself carefully. But, you still smirk. “I mean... Daddy.”

“Get on your knees and use your mouth. You are so good at that- your best quality, really.”

Scrunching up your nose at his snark this time, scowling, you do as he says anyway hopping off the machine and coming face-to-dick.

Because you are a whore.

In this moment, at least.

And, besides; You are really, really good at this. If you do say so yourself. if you do it just right, his animal instincts will completely take over and he’ll really use you. He steps closer, feet on either side of your thighs making you crane your neck to not be motorboating his freaken balls. Pulling down his boxers, finally completely exposing his, admittedly perfect - for you, - , genitalia and sigh as you get to wrap both your hands around the girth. Its so thick. God, you love it.

I would love it a heck of a lot more if it was nailing me into the tiles right now instead of nearly poking my eye out... but there are ways we can make that happen.

Moaning, like you’re taking the first bite of a really good sandwich you take as much of his hot, leaking cock between your lips and your hot mouth. Immediately one of his hands cups the back of your head and firmly pushes you further, the girth disappearing into you until hair tickles your nose. You can only imagine how you look... and it kind of turns you on even more.

“You are the best cocksleeve, sweet’eart... “ He says, voice not betraying anything so far. You can change that.

Utilising the tip of your tongue, you begin to stroke the the bottom, all along it to the tip and you suck - gently at first, - and slipping your lips along the shaft over and over, like you’re eating an icy poll. Its a slick, spit sheening mess by the time he’s literally spilling spurts of cum into your mouth and chin, which you wipe off. Not a full orgasm, but enough to grant you what you really want. And damn, is it hot.

As you slip off of his head again, licking up the creamy substance from the very tip, guided back by his hands in your hair gently but authoritatively he lets out a loud growl at the pleasure you give him. “... Tell me, who’s your Daddy?”

You just innocently lean forward and nuzzle his thighs in response, making him shudder and get down to the floor with you. Frustratedly, like this has to happen right fucking now, Chevy lays you on your back on the cold floor and straddles you after tugging down your pants and your underwear, and shoves himself fully in you all at once.

Its an easy fit, spearing into your searing, red, mess of a hole like it can only be one time of the month and when you have sex with Chevy. He grunts, and starts absolutely thundering into you over and over, like you’re the best feeling cunt he’s every experienced. You believe it. And, because of the way he makes you feel with that gorgeous, stone-hard cock of his you hope it is really true.

The sounds that it causes you to make are completely pornographic, and can absolutely be heard outside the room. The strength he uses to pound your dripping pussy both presses your bare ass into the cold tiles of the floor and pushes you up across the ground, and you whine. So hard... “Oh my god, oh my god!!” You cant help how your legs spread as wide as possible at the thighs but your ankles press tightly to his back. You arch your back to meet him, listening to the squish sounds that come out of you and his growly, fast breathing. “So good, Chevy!!”

“What.” He says quickly, wrapping his hands around your waist to keep you still and not sliding up the floor- so his hits find their target every time with an agonising strength. Pounding your pussy in a way you wish wouldn't stop.

Pushing his chest up so you can relocate, and get a different position, making him sit and you straddle his waist, hands up his shirt and fingers spreading across his hairy chest. “I meant Daddy.”

“Yes you fucking did.”

He always gets so cranky when he’s close to blowing.

Its not a bad thing, cranky is sexy on him- provided his penis is shoved inside you.

Grinding in his lap now, you do much of the grunt work, until he cant take your torment this time and takes your waist in his hands again, lifting you and jamming you back down on his rod over and over again, until he explodes cum inside you.

The outburst fills you up completely, the funk dripping out from between your walls and around his base, dripping on the floor pink from your period causing you to see stars come too, a moment later as he slams you down on his manhood once more.

Catching your breathes, you two stay sitting there like that, letting your shared fluid ooze out of you from around him, until his cock softens totally in you. When that’s done, he lifts your body off his and sets you down on the ground away from the puddle you two made. Your legs feel shaky, your breath is hard to catch, and your pussy feels battered.

This was a good session.

Chevy seems to think so too, as he grins and picks you up again, sitting you sideways, carefully on lap. “Oh, did I do well, Daddy?” You blink innocently, happy to keep playing the game but tired.

“Mhm. As always. You’ve got the perfect cunt, baby girl/boy.”

You look up, waiting for a kiss. “Oh, hope so.” Your lips meet, finally, tongues playing together gentle. You exchange long, open mouthed kisses with each other for a while after your session, making out lazily and dining on each others tastes as desert.

#Classic Heavy x Reader #TF2 Cheavy #TF2 Cheavy x Reader #Classic Heavy #Teen Fortress 2 #TF2 Chevy #TF2 Chevy x Reader

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 4 years

Text

Day 21

Prompt: Pick your favorites (1 or more) and combine them! Trail of color combined with impossible to lie to soulmate.

Word Count: 2,170

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01, @spoopy-turtle, @lizluvscupcakes, @more-fandon-than-friends, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart, @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun, sirprplsnail

Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12, @8-writes, @lizzy-lineart

CW: blood, mentioned side character death, mention of knife, (just in case) mention of police/detectives.

Logan stepped out of his car and approached the crime scene. “What do we know so far?”

“It looks like a homicide, Detective.”

He turned his head, glaring at him. “It looks? Do we not know if that’s the case? Surely if this were a homicide, the victim would still be here. So, is the body on site? Or at least on it’s way to the morgue?”

The cop cowered into his jacket slightly. “Yes, Detective, there was a body.”

Roman walked over. “Shoo! I’ve got him, you go get a break.” Logan rolled his eyes but turned to follow the lieutenant as the cop wandered off in relief. “So, what we’ve got is a body, footprints, a murder weapon, and three distinct blood samples.”

Logan nodded. “Two against one, not great odds for the dead guy.”

Roman barked a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that again.”

They entered the house and Logan took his time walking the scene. He examined the almost comical outline of where the body had been found, the placards for evidence, and the splatters of blood. He lingered on certain spots for reasons unknown to those around him. Sometimes, he would pull out his phone to take a picture to look at, his expression neutral. It wasn’t for another hour or two before he left to go back to the precinct.

He drew up a file for what they knew so far and added a personal note of ‘Is my soulmate one of the killers?’ He pulled the file for the victim and found that it was one Patton Hart. The man had been an upstanding citizen who worked at a local bakery. Logan made a note to call the bakery and give the owner a notice of Patton’s passing.

The next day, the call was made and he was off. He knew this was going to be an easy job and he also knew that he shouldn’t have taken it. He thought his emotions wouldn’t get in the way, that he would be able to take this case and not think about the fact that the person he was hunting could turn out to be his soulmate. He tried not to think about the implications of that and how it would impact his decisions.

No, he didn’t think about how he could be on his way to incarcerate someone who could end up being the love of his life if the circumstances were different. He didn’t wonder what that person was like, if they were cruel or soft to those they loved, if they slept lightly or deeply, how it would feel to have them next to him.

He didn’t think about how easy it was to track their path due to the glowing purple trail highlighting their every move, how this was worse than fish in a barrel because the fish at least knew there was no escape while his soulmate, this criminal and killer, thought they were free, thought they’d actually get away with this. They had no way of knowing that their life had been on a timer the second Logan stepped inside that house. No, he didn’t think of any of that. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, the music blasting in the hope of drowning out those thoughts.

He didn’t know how long he drove, only that it had taken him all day before the trail swerved off road. He pulled into a farm area and parked on the side of the dirt road. He stepped out, his service weapon close at hand in case things got nasty. Approaching the door to the farmhouse, Logan tried to look professional or at least laid back, anything other than the bundle of nerves and live wires he felt like.

He pushed through the door of what looked to be a bed and breakfast. “Hello?”

A man poked his head around the corner. “In here, honey bun!”

Logan followed the voice. “I would ask that you refrain from pet names as we are strangers but I can already tell that would be a lost cause.”

The man laughed, pulling his sunglasses down just enough to look over them at him. “If you keep that up, we’ll get along just fine, sugar.”

Logan sighed but sat down in the kitchen. “I’m just here to ask a few questions, I’m not going to be staying the night.”

The man sat down opposite him at the large wooden table with a live edge. Logan took a minute to glance around the large and airy kitchen, the current main source of light being the windows giving it a homey look. His eyes went back to the man before him and he slid out pictures of the people the blood samples matched. “Have you seen either of these people lately?”

The man paused, the towel he’d been using to dry his hands held suspended in his grasp. While he looked over the pictures, Logan looked around the room for any trace of his soulmate and found faint ones but nothing to go on. “The left one's name is Virgil. I don’t know the right. What would a sweet boy like him be doing messing with the law?” The last sentence was said quietly, as if it wasn’t meant for Logan to hear.

Logan sighed. “So, you’ve seen Virgil in the past few days? Could you point me in his general direction?”

The man put his towel down. “I could. What do you need him for?”

Logan decided to just tell a half truth. “I just need to ask him a few questions about something that happened a few days ago.”

He nodded before jutting his thumb over his shoulder. “Emile told me he’s out back chopping wood or something.” He shrugged. “I will never understand him.”

Logan thanked him for his time and exited through the indicated door. He found the trail of purple leading around the side of the building and followed it, coming upon the sound of wood being split by an axe. A purple hoodie in the same color as the trail lay nearby, discarded by the person chopping wood. He traveled around the corner and found the source of the sound.

He cleared his throat to get the man’s attention. The shirtless man startled and turned. Logan knew he was his soulmate based off the trail that led right up to him but he still wasn’t prepared to meet him like this. Putting on a professional face that made his features neutral, he spoke. “Would you mind answering a few questions?”

His soulmate, the man who might be a criminal, Virgil nodded. “Am I allowed to finish this pile first, Officer?”

Logan smiled, sitting on the grass nearby. “That’s fine. And my actual title is Detective.”

Virgil nodded before swinging the axe again, letting it hit and spilt the piece of tree trunk before him. Logan took the time to examine the man. The homicide was committed with a kitchen knife in a stabbing motion and this man certainly seemed capable of it. Logan’s eyes lingered on his biceps, seeing the definition of the muscle and he knew those muscles were practical, not dehydrated for a bodybuilding competition.

The last axe swing hit its mark and Virgil left the axe in the stump, moving to pick up a discarded shirt to wipe his face of sweat before downing part of a water bottle. “So, what can I do for you, Detective?” He sat Indian style in the grass facing Logan.

Logan looked through his notes. “Were you in the city two days ago?” He gave the address for the house as well.

Virgil’s expression was stiff as he nodded. “Yes, I was there. I’m assuming you want my witness statement?”

Logan looked at him as he pulled out the photos from the crime scene. He meant to reassure him but he forgot about the inability to lie to his soulmate. “You’re actually currently a suspect.”

Virgil tensed. “You don’t know I didn’t do it, do you?” He scrambled to his feet, beginning to pace as he ran a hand through his hair that must have been matted with sweat. “I was a victim too!” He reached down, pulling up his pants leg to show a large bandage. Logan noticed a smaller one on his cheek and one that was somewhere between them residing on his nondominant shoulder.

Logan didn’t know what to do. With his soulmate being unable to lie to him, he had to take his word as absolute truth. Still, there was a small part of him that wondered if it was only a one way soul connection and Virgil wasn’t his soulmate. “Okay, I understand.” He swiftly put away the crime scene photos, instead pulling out the random stack of mug shots he’d compiled before he left. “All I need you to do now is help me figure out who did this. Can you do that?”

Virgil’s pacing slowed, coming to a stop in front of Logan. He looked down at the pictures, hand on the injured shoulder. He scanned them as Logan watched his eyes, fear evident in them when they came to one particular picture. Virgil pointed at it. “That one. That’s him.”

Logan looked down to see the mug of the third blood sample staring back at him. “Okay, that will be helpful.” He rose to his knees with minimal effort, gathering the pages up. “I’ll be on my way then.”

Virgil’s hand clutched his sleeve, keeping him there. “Can I ask a request?”

Logan turned to look at his soulmate, the man who wasn’t a killer, the one who was a victim, and his face softened. He allowed himself to show emotion, his face the picture of concern. “Yes?” His voice was soft too.

Steel crept into Virgil’s eyes, turning him into something that looked dangerous. “I want to come with you.” That same steel was in his voice, almost turning it into a command instead of a request.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Why would you deliberately ask to meet your attempted murderer?”

Virgil’s voice remained firm but sadness tinged the edges. “He killed my best friend and I want to watch his face when justice is served.”

Logan nodded, softly chucking him under the chin. “I guess I can stay the night to give you time to shower and pack. Would that be acceptable?”

Virgil nodded, releasing him to grab his things, their arms brushing as he headed inside. They spent the night at the bed and breakfast, Remy seeing them out in the morning with a quick hug and a “Bye, babes!”

They both climbed into Logan’s car, the detective making sure to turn the radio down and off before Virgil got in. Virgil put his bag in the trunk before walking around to get in the passenger side, a sketchbook in his lap. Logan smiled at him as he got in, handing him the aux cord. “How about you pick the music for the ride? I don’t have any preferences when it comes to music.”

Virgil nodded and plugged his phone in. Logan expected him to play rock or emo music but instead a soft ballad was followed by a catchy pop song. The drive was spent in relative silence as Logan headed in the direction the actual killer had run. Finally, Virgil turned down the volume and spoke. “So, what are we doing now?”

“I’ve already communicated with the precinct so they know you’re a witness under my protection. At the moment, I feel no need to inform them that you’re my soulmate. That will be done eventually but I assumed after this was over would be soon enough.” He glanced at his soulmate. “Unless you would like me to alter the timing at all?”

Virgil shook his head. “No, that’s fine.”

“In return, I was informed of the last known location of your attacker. I was told it was close to where you resided, which, at the time, only perpetuated the idea of you working together. However, I am more inclined to think he was stalking you in an attempt to finish the job.”

Virgil’s hand slid closer to the center console. Logan allowed his right hand to let go of the steering wheel, letting it rest near Virgil’s. The purple clad man smiled, holding the hand in a loose grasp, one that told Logan he was free to pull away when he needed to. “So,” Virgil asked, “are we going to arrest him now?”

Logan nodded. “That’s the plan.”

A silence descended that was more comfortable than the one before, one that knew they were on an even footing. So, even as the music was turned up and a song from a musical came on, they both reveled in the companionable silence that came with the other’s hand in theirs. The car sped on, eating up the road easily as they headed off to get justice for Patton Hart.

Maybe one day I’ll give this a second part where they take down the killer.

#tsshipmonth2020 #soulmate au #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #detective!logan #remy sanders #patton sanders #ace writes

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